Angel Wolf
by herondale.demigod
Summary: The first time she heard the voices, Rose was in the kitchen, watching the Doctor cook. She'd been laughing at the Doctor's over-exaggerated Italian accent, as he yelled phrases in Italian, which she presumed had nothing to do with cooking pasta. She wrapped her arms around his waist, when four words echoed around her head: DEAN WINCHESTER IS SAVED.
1. Chapter 1

The first time she heard the voices, Rose was in the kitchen, watching the Doctor cook. She'd been laughing at the Doctor's over-exaggerated Italian accent, as he yelled phrases in Italian, which she presumed had nothing to do with cooking pasta. She wrapped her arms around his waist, licking tomato sauce off the spoon, when four words echoed around her head.

 _DEAN WINCHESTER IS SAVED._

This was followed by a river of other voices and phrases, washing over her mind. She cried out and stumbled, shocked by the sudden telepathic surge. The Doctor caught her, and she gripped his arms as she tried to steady herself, attempting to block out the chatter at the back of her mind.

"What's wrong?" the Doctor asked worriedly.

"I… I don't know," she said. "I was just standing there, and suddenly there was millions of voices speaking all at once."

"Like a telepathic attack?"

She shook her head. "More like... I tuned into a telepathic network of some kind, or something."

The Doctor reached his hands to her temples. "May I?"

She nodded, and the Doctor placed his fingers on the side of her head, closing his eyes in concentration. Although he was mostly human now, he had retained a majority of his telepathy, and his brain capacity was larger than a normal human. As he shifted through her mind, she focused lightly on the voices, trying to discern what they were speaking about.

There was a lot of talk about the man she had first heard about, Dean Winchester. They wanted him for some reason, and not a good reason by the sound of it. There was talk of a relative of the man's, probably a brother, Sam Winchester. They wanted him too, but less than Dean. There was talks of seals, and demons, and what sounded like the _apocalypse_. She knew it was non-human, the telepathy was obviously not a human trait.

The Doctor pulled away suddenly, gasping. "They… they wouldn't let me in. Whatever it is, they are strong, and I… I can't tell if they're malicious or not."

"They barely seem to notice that I'm listening in," Rose said. "They're talking about these two men, uh, Dean and Sam Winchester. Do those names mean anything to you?"

The Doctor shook his head. "What are they saying about them?"

"Well, they brought Dean back from either a figurative or literal hell, and now they're discussing the fact that Sam is addicted to, um, _Demon Blood_ , which could be some drug or something." She paused for a second, almost as if she was listening. "There's a lot of talk about the Judeo-Christian apocalypse, and if I didn't know better, I'd say they were angels. Which would probably send me straight to the nuthouse, but oh well."

"Angels? Fluffy wings, halo-wearing, angels?"

"It could be some sort of alien or something which the myths are based off, though," she pondered. "I wouldn't be surprised."

"That's more likely than actual angels," the Doctor said.

Rose winced. "They're loud, whatever they are. And they don't seem to be very friendly."

"I could attempt to put a block on your mind, try and quieten them down," the Doctor suggested.

"Please," Rose said, rubbing her head slightly. The voices were already giving her a migraine.

The Doctor placed his hands on her temples again, and she could feel the voices quieting, almost like turning down the volume on a radio. She sighed in relief. "That better?" the Doctor said, removing his hands from her face.

"Much. Thanks." She leaned up and kissed him, a small peck on his lips.

The Doctor smiled. "That's okay." He helped her stand, before turning to the now-ruined pasta with a sigh. "Chinese?"

She smirked. "Sure."

…

The voices persisted, and when the Doctor's walls broke down, she winced and asked the Doctor to build them back up. She gave a running commentary of the angel's movements, and as the seals broke down, there would be a burst of noise and frantic chatter over the telepathic network.

She still worked, as a field agent at the Parallel Universe's Torchwood, which was too trigger-happy for the Doctor's liking, but better that their home universe's Torchwood. The Doctor worked there as both a researcher and a field agent, where he was legally Doctor James Noble, though no-one called him that.

They were out on a mission, in a warehouse in south London. There had been disappearances reported around this area for years now, and strange energy fluctuations reported on their scanners. The Doctor suspected an alien race called the 'Weeping Angels', which she had found ironic, suggesting the angels in her head could be the angels they were tracking now. Another seal had been broken yesterday, and a major one by the sound of it. They were blaming an angel called Castiel, who she found strangely familiar, and the Winchester brothers. They seemed to blame the Winchesters a lot.

They were in the abandoned warehouse on high alert, with strange light-giving stones that had been a gift from an alien race they had helped years ago. They were said never to go out, which would be useful against the Angels, a creature that thrived in the dark. It was better than letting them sit in storage. The Doctor led the mission, because he had experience in facing these creatures, and even been affected by their deadly touch. As they snuck through the warehouse, weapons trained on the shadows, the whispers in her head silenced.

Completely.

She was so shocked, she stumbled, and when she looked up she was face to face with an angel. She cried out in shock and warning, and the team spun to look.

"Rose," the Doctor cautioned. "Don't blink. Jake, Morris, Take your teams and check the rest of the warehouse."

"I need to blink," Rose said, and when the Doctor nodded, she turned and blinked a couple of times.

"Can someone get a mirror?" The Doctor's idea had been ingenious, placing the mirror in front of the Angels to lock it into place. Someone dragged a full-length mirror over, propping it up on its stand, and they looked away with a sigh of relief.

"You okay?" the Doctor said. "I notice you stumbled."

She nodded. "Yeah, just… the Angels went silent. Like, completely silent, and it startled me."

"Completely silent?"

She nodded. He furrowed his brow. "Could they have detected you listening in?"

"No, I haven't even attempted to contact them since you tried. Maybe something happened to them?"

"Maybe," the Doctor said, and then Jake gave a shout, so they ran over to help.

…

The angels started back up when they were driving back. They had found three weeping angels in total, and had then left the mirrors in place. There would be people to do periodical checks on the warehouse, to make sure a curious child hadn't moved any of the mirrors. When the voices started up again, she winced, but listened in anyway.

They wanted a girl named Anna, and the Winchesters were hiding her.

Anna, a fallen angel.

Then suddenly she knew what she was.

* * *

 **Right, So this will be set in around season 4/5 of supernatural.**

 **I'm only up to season 5 of supernatural (Swan Song _killed_ me) so I'm sorry if i get anything wrong. **

**This is based off a tumblr prompt (search up superwho rose angel and it's one of the first images)**

 **I will try and update, but school, so updates may be slow. (sorry in advance.)**


	2. Chapter 2

"Doctor," she whispered, her voice shaking. "I know why I can hear the Angels."

He turned to her, intrigued. "Did they say? Did they discover you?"

"No."

"Then how?"

She took a deep breath. "They aren't what the legends of angels are based on, they _are_ the legend. They are angels, warriors of God."

"No, that's impossible."

She shook her head "No, it's true. At the moment, they're being extremely careful what they say, but they're looking for a girl named Anna. A fallen angel. Who could hear them speaking over their telepathic network. Sound familiar?"

His eyes widened. "You-You're-"

"I was an Angel, who ripped out her own grace instead of being cast down with Lucifer. And obviously, I wasn't the only one. Anael, uh, Anna, did it too. And after they hunt her down they'll come for me."

"The Angels?" He said nervously.

"And the demons."

He blinked. "They exist too?"

She nodded. "I- I can't stay with you, and put you at risk. I have to find my grace."

"Grace? What's grace?"

"Wings." She took a deep breath. "I have to find my wings."

"I'm coming with you."

"No. I- I can't put you in this much danger. I have to go alone."

"I have been in more danger than you ever have, I'm sure I can look after myself." He smiled at her. "And plus, when would I ever let you go alone?"

"You're human now, you can die. And I couldn't- I couldn't watch you die. And I'm technically older than you."

"You're- what?"

"I'm almost as old as the universe really. Some of my siblings are older, like Michael, and Lucifer, and Ga- er, Raphael, but I'm older than earth."

"Do you remember your name? Your Angel Name?"

She looked away. "I do."

"What is it?"

"I… I'm not ready to reclaim it yet. I'll tell you, I promise, just not yet."

The Doctor smiled. "Don't worry, I know all about having a name that you don't deserve."

"Thankyou."

"Do you know where your Grace might be?"

"It's in this universe, on Earth somewhere, which narrows it down." She sighed. "It's going to take forever to find, isn't it?"

"What are we looking for?" the Doctor asked.

"A comet, that landed somewhere around 23 years ago. There shouldn't be many, right?

…

She was half right. There were three comets that year, in three different countries, and none of them in Europe. There was one in Nepal, one in Australia, and one in Peru. All in the middle of nowhere. Great.

They would easily have access to money (What with being the Vitex Heiress and all that), but organising it in the time it took to take out Anael would not be possible. But she had to try, and so, packing their bags, they told the media of an extended holiday before running to Peru.

The third day of hiking in the Amazon, they had just propped up the tent, and were preparing sausages, when Rose froze.

"What's wrong?" The Doctor asked, putting down the knife from where he was slicing onions.

"Anael- She-"

The Doctor gasped "She's dead? Oh, god, Rose-"

"She's not dead. She got her grace back." Shit. "They're gonna come after me now," Rose said fearfully.

"Okay," the Doctor said. "I wish we had more time, but is there any way to protect against Angels and Demons?"

"Hex bags, but I don't think I have all the Ingredients. I could set up angel wards, as well, but we'd have to stay in the same place."

"Could you ward the tent?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

"What do you need?"

She winced slightly. "Er, Blood. Lots of it."

He just held out his arm, and the knife he used to cut onions. "Use mine."

Her eyes widened in horror. "I can't- I can't take your blood! The blood loss would kill you!"

"I'm not gonna let it kill you, then!" He argued. "And plus, I'm still part Time Lord, and I still have better blood replenishment than humans. Just do it."

She shook her head. "No. We'll do half-and-half. That's the most I'm gonna let you do."

He narrowed his eyes. "Fine. But if you die, I'll never forgive myself, got it?"

"Same goes for if you die." She took the knife anyway, and cleaned it in the water boiling for tea. Then she sliced it across the palm of her hands, much to the Doctor's protests, and got started on the Wards.

 **Okay, an update! Yay!**

 **I will try to update fortnightly, giving me time to write the rest of the chapters, but I am loaded down with exams now, so if I don't update, you know why.**

 **Please review, ask questions, or comment on stuff. I will try to reply, but if I don't, once again - exams.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	3. Chapter 3

The wards took a couple of hours to complete, but they had hidden her from both angels and demons. They had at least three days before the angels landed in the correct universe, and another day after that until the demons followed them through. After dinner, they slept a fitful rest in the now warded tent, before setting out in the morning.

Another day, and they reached the site of the crater. But that was all it was, a crater, not a trace of Grace in it. They sighed in annoyance, before beginning the trek back to civilization.

…

Nepal was a bust too. By that point they had Hex bags, having made them as soon as they had hit the town. Then they caught a plane to Kathmandu, and had trekked over the Himalayas, only to find, once again nothing. Rose could sense the Angels in this universe, their Graces flaring across the world. She'd also run from several Demons, dragging the Doctor away from animated conversations with the locals about anything from the history to the weather.

Australia was their only hope now.

…

They Landed in Alice Springs International airport at 10:00 local time, rubbing sleepy eyes and hauling packs off the plane before running to get their luggage. They were used to jet-lag now, and needed maximum one night's sleep before they were used to the time zone. Came with being a time traveller, Rose supposed.

They had no time for one night's sleep now. They set off almost immediately, catching a bus to the middle of nowhere and going from there. After a day's hiking, they were ready to collapse from the heat and the doctor was muttering about culling the fly population by 90 percent. They collapsed into their tent with a sigh of relief, relishing in the coolness of the night air.

By the second day, she could feel her grace.

It was like a magnet, drawing her in, leaving an itch under her skin that wouldn't abate.

Her grace wasn't the only one she could feel. There were Angels there, guarding it, as well as Angels scanning the desert from the air. She was glad of those hex bags.

At the start of the third day, they packed up their tents (hopefully for the last time), poured a bottle of water down already parched throats, before starting off towards where her grace was calling her.

"You do realise it is almost certainly a trap?" the Doctor murmured, his pack bouncing on his back as he walked beside her.

"Yes, but I know a way to banish angels, so we'll hopefully be safe." Rose said.

"Hopefully isn't completely," the Doctor pointed out. She just swatted his shoulder and kept walking. "Hey, whatever happens," the Doctor said, running up beside her and catching her hand. "Remember I love you. And that I'll always love you, no matter what I will ever look like."

She spun around and kissed him, hard, her cracked lips pressing against his. "I love you too, so much." He wrapped his arms around her hips, pulling her closer, and they just stood there for a while, two almost-humans kissing in the hot Australian sun.

…

They reached her Grace by mid-afternoon, the blistering heat beating down on their shoulders. They crouched behind a rock, staring over at a massive Boab tree with towering limbs. There were angels, four of them, dressed in sharp three-piece suit which look completely out of place in the desert. They hefted silver Angel Blades, patrolling the Tree.

"Knife," she whispered to the Doctor, holding out her hand for the blade strapped to his chest. He reluctantly drew it, and handed it to her, handle first, and she sliced the blade into her hand, before plastering the rock with a Banishing Sigil. As she pressed her hand to the Rock, a cry went up, and she looked away as an ethereal light glowed around the edges of the rock. "When I reclaim my grace, make sure you close your eyes, otherwise you'll be incinerated," she warned as they cautiously approached the tree.

It was massive up close, looking almost as if it had been there for hundreds of years, rather than twenty-three. She approached it, stretching her hand out to where it was calling to her. She heard the wing beats, and the Doctor's sharp intake of breath alerting her to the arrival of more angels. She ignored it, instead reaching out and touching the tree with a quivering finger.

She shouldn't have ignored it.

As Rose was focused on the tree and her grace, she never noticed the Angel Blade flying out of the angel's hand, heading straight towards her back.

She never noticed it, but the Doctor did. So he stepped in front of it.

There was a sickening _thunk_ as the blade sank into his stomach, and he closed his eyes, as Rose's Grace flowed from the tree into her. And she spun around when she heard it and she screamed.

Once she was a full angel again, she collapsed by his side, frantically pushing her grace into the wound.

It didn't close. It didn't heal.

"No, no!" she cried, pressing her hands to the wound, attempting to staunch the flow of blood.

"Rose," he breathed, lifting his hands to hers. "Leave it."

"No, you're not dying!" She said, her voice cracking. "You're not going to die!" she looked up and glared at the angel who threw the blade. "Fix him!" she screamed. "You'd better bloody fix him, or I will kill you, I swear!"

"Rose, don't." he gripped her had tightly, intertwining their fingers. "Don't kill because of me. Go f-find _him_ , in the other universe. Help the Winchesters, and Castiel, and just be fantastic, like always." He took a deep shuddering breath. "Be safe. I h-hope not to see you for a long time, you got that? S-stay alive." There were tears streaming down her face now, mixing with the copper blood staining the orange sand. "Just _live_. Be amazing."

"Rahmiel," she whispered, almost as if confessing something. "My real name is Rahmiel."

He smiled, his eyes drooping. "The Angel of love. O-of course." His eyes closed, and then he was still.

Rose thought she screamed, but she didn't care. Her tears, almost as warm as the ground under her fingers, dropped onto his face, and she just cried, sobbing for what seemed like an eternity.

This wasn't meant to happen. He wasn't dead, he couldn't be dead, he wasn't-

"Wake up," She whispered, shaking him. "Don't you dare be dead!"

She clutched his shirt in her hands, pressing it to her face. She didn't care if the Angel was watching her. She just mourned the wild-haired man that had run into her life like a summer wind, who wasn't dead. Who couldn't be dead.

Eventually, she stood up, letting her own angel blade shimmer into existence. She glared at the angel, Uriel, who stood there, smiling whilst shaking his head. "Mourning a monkey. How the mighty have fallen, _Rahmiel_."

"Don't call me that," she snarled. "My name is _Rose_. Leave, or I will kill you."

He chuckled. "You'll do nothing of the sort. It was his dying wish, after all."

She fumed, knowing that he was right. "Leave," she said again. He smirked once more, and then disappeared.

She picked up his body, before flying back to London.

…

She landed on the doorstep of her mother's mansion, ringing the doorbell once.

Her mother pulled open the door, and her eyes fell on the Doctor's body. Her mouth widened in horror, and tears formed in her eyes. She stepped aside to let her daughter in, and they sobbed on the front mat, the Doctor's body between them.

Pete came down after a minute, and bowed his head when he saw what had happened.

…

They had his funeral three days later. Rose's newfound wings ruffled in the cold. She still hadn't said a word since she had landed on her mother's doorstep, still hadn't told anyone what had happened. Pete put people on the case immediately, although even at Torchwood people may find it hard to believe that an Angel from another universe killed him. She didn't care, anymore. The last seal had been broken, whilst she mourned, and Lucifer let out of the cage. She didn't care. She was dressed in a black dress, with black heels, and she and her mother stood at the edge of his grave. The ceremony was drab, typical, and everything was grey. She didn't say anything, not when they spoke of 'missing him' and 'loss so great', not when people came up to her with comforting arms and sorrowful looks. She didn't say a word, just stood sullen, her rage forming a pit in her stomach.

 **I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry! *hides***

 **Also, someone asked whether the Supernatural universe was in this one or the home universe. It will NOT be in this universe, but her home universe. As for her grace being in this universe, I think Rose just ripped out her grace and threw it as far away as possible, and it just happened to land in the other universe.**

 ***hides again***


	4. Chapter 4

She left the universe after a week. She called on the reserves of her connection to heaven, landing in London, in a pizza shop. She wavered for a second, one foot in someone's dinner, before collapsed.

She dreamed.

She dreamed of a memory, of her past thousands of years in the future. She was nineteen, by the look of it, and she was standing in front of the TARDIS, on a space station. Her eyes were glowing, a bright, ethereal gold. And then, like a leak in the dam, it all came flooding back.

She remembered. Oh Father, She remembered.

She remembered disintegrating the Daleks with a wave of her hand, controlling life and death with a flick of her wrist.

Oh, Father, Jack.

She remembered resurrecting him, forever and ever. _Oh, Jack,_ she thought. _I'm so sorry._

Bad Wolf.

Now her mind could handle it, it wasn't as overwhelming as last time. She knew where to go now, where to find the Winchesters.

What she had to do.

She woke up.

…

She landed in an abandoned town. It had obviously been vacated recently, and gleaming cars laying abandoned. She walked amongst the cars, following the road to a bridge. On the other side, was a black Impala. Two men clambered out, hefting guns before slamming the door.

The Winchesters.

She debated her options. She could reveal her position, possibly end up shot, and reveal the fact that she wasn't human. She could go back to the camp, where she sensed the other people end up shot, and be revealed as non-human. She decided the possibility of being shot was better than the certainty of being shot, so she walked onto the bridge with her hands raised in peace. Their guns flew up, but there were no bullets yet.

"Are you the Winchesters?" she yelled.

"Who's asking?" Dean shouted back.

"Rose Tyler," she said. "I'm looking for the Doctor."

The effect was instantaneous. The guns lowered, and she walked closer. "How do you know the Doctor?" Sam asked, suspicious.

"I used to travel with him." She said.

"Why are you here, in a rundown town in the middle of nowhere?" Dean asked.

"I was told you knew where he was," she said.

"We don't," Sam said. "We haven't seen him in two years."

"Damn."

"Why are you here?" Dean asked again.

"I came from another universe to see him." Not technically a lie. "And it came out here, no idea why."

"Well, this town is overrun with demons," Dean warned. "You might want to get out."

"How?" she asked. "The teleport is in another universe."

Dean sighed in annoyance. "Can you fire a gun?"

She smirked. "Three years of military experience, yes, I can fire a gun."

"You can help us then." He handed her a shotgun. "Filled with salt, demon repellent. I'm Dean, that's Sam, nice to meet you, Rose." He walked off, and Rose followed.

…

They wandered warily through the town, ducking their heads inside houses and weaving around overturned cars. It was eerie, almost. It was completely silent, except for a steady _thwip thwip thwip_ of a sprinkler, and the muffled echoing of a song on a car radio. Sam reached in and flicked off the engine, and the song abruptly cut off. They headed further into the village, Dean pausing for a second to whistle appreciatively at a gleaming mustang in the middle of the road. Sam rolled his eyes, but moved on

At the gas station, they found a trail of blood leading away from the car, and as they leant down to follow it, a gun cocked. Dean spun around, raising his own gun, before lowering it when he saw who it was.

"Ellen?" Sam said disbelievingly.

"Hello, boys." She smiled.

…

After the usual checks, Ellen turned to Rose. "Who are you?"

"Rose Tyler, ma'am. I'm looking for the Doctor." She stuck out her hand and Ellen shook it.

"Call me Ellen," She said, smiling kindly at Rose. "The Doctor, huh. That man has saved our lives more time than I care to admit. Why are you looking for him?"

"I used to travel with him."

Her eyes widened. "Damn. That- That's pretty impressive." She narrowed her eyes suddenly, before turning and gesturing for them to follow. "It's not safe here. Follow me."

…

They followed Ellen to a church. They pushed open the door, stepping over the salt and the Devil's Trap, before Ellen turned to the boys. "It's good to see you boys," She said grinning, before turning around and slapping Dean.

"Ow!"

"The can of whoopass I ought to open on you…" She threatened. "You can't pick up a phone? What are you, allergic to giving me piece of mind? I gotta find out you're alive from _Rufus_?"

"Sorry, Ellen," Dean said, rubbing his cheek.

"You'd better be. You'd better put me on _speed-dial_ , kid." She snapped.

"Yes, ma'am," Dean muttered.

* * *

 **Sorry it's short. I will maybe post this week instead of in two weeks to make up for the shortness of this chapter.**

 **Anyway, Early season five for Rose! Enjoy! Please, Please review, tell me what you think, anything I can change.**


	5. Chapter 5

They were let in the church by a man holding a rifle. He pulled open the door, revealing a room full of people.

"This is Sam, Dean and Rose," Ellen introduced. "They're hunters. Here to help."

"You guys hip to the whole hunter thing?" The man who opened the door asked.

"Yeah," Dean said. "Are you?"

"My wife's eyes turned black. She came at me with a _brick_." An older man said bitterly, twisting his ring around his finger. "Kinda makes you embrace the paranormal."

"All right," Dean said, turning to Ellen. "Catch us up."

"I doubt I know much more than you. Rufus called. Said he was in town investigating omens. All of a sudden, the whole town was possessed. Me and Jo were nearby-"

"You're hunting with Jo?" Dean asked, surprised.

Ellen nodded. "Yeah, for a while now. We got here, and the place—well, the place was like you see it. Couldn't find Rufus, then me and Jo got separated. I was out looking when I found you."

"Don't worry," Dean assured. "We'll find her."

"Either way, these people can't just sit here." Sam said, looking around the room.

"It's not that easy," Ellen said bitterly. "I've been trying. We made a run for it once."

"What happened?" asked Rose.

"There used to be twenty of us."

Rose did a mental headcount, frowning when she only came up with ten people.

"Well, there's four of us now-" Dean started.

Ellen shook her head. "You don't know what it's like out there. Demons are _everywhere_. We won't be able to cover everyone."

"What if we get everyone guns?" Sam suggested.

"What, we're going to arm up baby bump over there?" Dean said sarcastically, waving his arm towards a nervous looking pregnant woman.

Sam shrugged. "More salt we can fire at once, more demons we can keep away."

Dean glanced around, his gaze falling back on Sam.

"We passed a sporting goods store on the way here," Rose put in "They'll have weapons."

Dean nodded, and he and Sam dropped their bags.

"All right. You stay, we'll go. Rose, come or go, your choice." Sam said.

"I'll come."

"What about-" Ellen began

"If Jo and Rufus are out there," Sam said. "We'll bring them back."

The man with the rifle held open the door, allowing them to leave. When he closed the door, Dean turned to Sam, placing a hand on his chest. "Whoa whoa whoa. Hold on." They paused at the foot of the stairs, and Sam turned to Dean an exasperated look on his face.

"Why don't me and Rose just go?" Dean suggested.

"What, just you two?" Sam said, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, yeah. Someone's gotta stay back and start giving them shotgun 101," Dean argued.

"Yeah, Ellen." Sam kept walking up the stairs.

Dean stopped him again. "No, it'll be much faster if we go alone."

He raised an eyebrow. "While you two go get guns, and salt, and hunt for Jo and Rufus? That's stupid." He paused for a second, before realising. "You don't want me out there."

"I didn't say that," Dean protested.

"Around demons."

"I didn't say that," Dean said again.

"Can we go then?" Rose said, exasperated. "Seriously, Sam is right. It will be faster if all of us go." She pushed between both of them, heading up the stairs and out the door of the church.

…

The sun was bright, and Rose blinked black spots out of her eyes.

"I'll get the salt, you and Rose get the guns." Sam said, starting towards the convenience store. Dean caught his arms.

"No, we go together."

Rose rolled her eyes. "If you're going to be like that, I'll go with Sam."

Dean pursed his lips. "Fine." He turned and stalked moodily towards the sports store.

…

As Sam filled his bag with salt, Rose kept watch. "What's Dean's problem with you?" She asked.

Sam sighed. "I… made some bad choices, trusted the wrong people, and it hurt a lot of people. Started the apocalypse, actually."

Rose frowned. "So? I ended the world once, but we fixed it. The Doctor fixed it, and he forgave me." She smiled. "Your brother will forgive you, don't worry. Just give him time."

His lips twitched in semblance of a smile. "I hope so."

There was a tinkling sound of the door opening, and Rose dropped, gripping her shotgun. Sam glanced over at his shotgun, lying on top of a row of cans. As he reached for it, glancing at the two demons in a mirror, he knocked a can. Rose winced as the demons turned, and raised her shotgun. Sam drew an ornately carved knife. She fired once, before the demon knocked her gun from her hands. She pulled back and punched him in the face. He spun into Sam, where he drove his knife into its chest.

He'd already finished off the other one, and only then did Rose notice they were only teenagers. She looked up, to see Sam staring strangely at the knife, running a finger over the blood dripping off.

"Sam," she said softly, as the doorbell tinkled, and Dean burst in. He just stared at the two of them, and the two bodies lying at their feet.

…

They got back to the church, and unloaded their bags, before showing people how to load and assemble their weapons. Ellen ran around, trying to organise people and ensure they were doing it properly. Sam helped, adjusting grips and demonstrating loading it.

Dean walked to a man, who held onto a shotgun like it was his lifeline. "You know your way around a gun?" he asked.

The Man glanced at him for a second, before disassembling the gun in his hands. Dean nodded appreciatively. "Where'd you serve?"

The man reassembled his rifle. "Fallujah. Two tours. Got back a little over a year ago. Takes one to know one. Where'd you serve?"

Dean smirked. "Hell."

The man snorted. "No, seriously," he said.

"Seriously." Dean replied. "Hell."

Dean walked over to where Rose and Sam were sitting. "Hey."

Sam looked up. "Hey," he said.

Dean sat down next to Sam. "What's wrong?"

Sam looked down, before looking back at Dean. "It's just, at the store, those demons were possessing _teenagers_. I had to slit some kid's _throat_."

Dean nudged him. "C'mon, Sam, you had to."

Sam shifted uncomfortably. "I know." He sighed. "I just… it used to be like…" He paused. "I wish I was saving people like I used to."

"You mean when you were all hopped up on demon blood?"

"I didn't say that," he said.

"I'll be back." Ellen's voice cut through their argument, and they looked up to see her standing in front of them. All three of them stood up.

"I'll come with you," Sam said.

"Me too," Rose volunteered.

"Whoa, hold on," Dean said. "Sam, can I speak with you for a moment?"

Sam sighed, but followed Dean out of the room. They only waited for a minute, before Sam walked out, a frustrated look on his face. "Let's go." He said, grabbing a shotgun and walking out the door.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter six

The sprinkler was still going when they walked outside, spraying water everywhere. "So, where did you see her last?" Sam said, walking beside Ellen.

"Up ahead," She said. "What's up with you and Dean?"

Sam looked at her for a second, before looking away, not saying anything.

"It was hard _not_ to notice, how different things are between you guys these days."

Sam ignored her.

Ellen's eyes widened. "Lot of bad road, huh? What, some girl come between you or something?"

"Just – stresses of the job. You know how it is," he said dismissively. "I'm kind of surprised, actually. You and Jo, hunting? Weren't you always saying she couldn't hack the life?"

"She can't. But if she's gonna do it anyway-"

Sam nodded. "You want to keep an eye on her."

Rose looked over the trees, at a plume of smoke curling round the horizon. "Hey," she said, nodding at the smoke.

"Is that a chimney going?" Ellen asked.

"By the look of it," Rose said. "Let's go." They approached the smoke, which was leading from a nondescript house. They hid behind another building, and as they were watching, a man walked past the window, black eyes gleaming in the light.

"Guess we found base camp," Ellen murmured.

"Demons don't get cold," Sam said darkly. "Makes you wonder what they're burning."

Rose shivered. She and Sam started round the building, approaching the house, when Ellen gave a cry of surprise. They spun, and Sam slammed the butt of his gun into the closest demon, and Rose moved to fight the other. A demon slammed Ellen into the wall, and from the corner of the building, a voice cried, "Don't you move, you evil skank!"

It was a girl, around Rose's age, with blonde hair and brown eyes and the same face as Ellen. She must be Jo, Rose thought. While they paused to look at Jo, the demon grabbed Sam's gun, turning it on him and hitting him with it. Rose's demon slammed her into a wall, before snatching her gun and throwing it aside. She got a look at the demon's eyes, its very human soul, for the first time and realised something.

"You're not a demon," She whispered.

"Damn right I'm not, bitch." He said, pressing his arm to her throat and fumbling behind him for the discarded gun.

From where she was pinned to a wall, she watched as Ellen was slammed into a wall by Jo. "Don't you hurt her, don't you-" She implored, staring into her daughter's black eyes.

"Give me my mom back, you black-eyed bitch!" Jo shouted, and Ellen's eyes widened in confusion, before she pushed the younger woman off her.

"Ellen! Run!" Sam cried, cocking his shotgun before he was hit from behind by a dark-skinned man.

Rose strained her head to see Ellen's retreating back, before yelling, "Ellen! They're not demons! They're not-" A sharp pain blossomed from the side of her head as her attacker slammed the butt of his gun into her head, and everything went black.

…

She woke up to a man with wire-rimmed glasses staring back at her, twisting a ring around his finger. Roger, she thought his name was, and she thought he was in the other camp. " _You_ ," She hissed, because she knew what he was.

The man grinned. "Hello, little bird."

"Not a bird. Try _wolf_ ," She snarled, baring her teeth and letting her eyes glow briefly gold.

He stumbled away, eyes wide and mouth parted in surprise. "Well. The little bird has _bite_."

She grinned wolfishly. "Hello, _War_."

He smirked, before turning and walking out of the room. "Watch out, little Angel. There is conflict coming for you yet," he said, his voice trailing away. The last she saw was his ring flashing in the dim overhead light.

The room was plunged into darkness, and Rose relaxed.

…

The door flung open about 15 minutes later, and Jo and the other man who had hit Sam walked in.

"I'm not a Demon," she said, as the man tested her bonds. "You might see me with black eyes now, but I'm not a Demon."

"Shut up," the man said, pulling out salt and a flask of water, before tipping the water (which she presumed to be holy water) onto her head. She didn't move, only closed her eyes against the cold water. "It's not working on this one either," Jo said worriedly.

"'Cause I'm not a demon, and Sam isn't either!" Rose exclaimed. Jo and the other man looked at her for a second, contemplating her words. "Look, at the moment, I see you with black eyes. Would I see that if I was a demon?"

They might have believed her, if a shout hadn't gone up from the other room, and Jo and the other man turned and ran out.

She kicked the floor in annoyance.

…

About five minutes later, Sam, Dean, and Jo pushed open the door, and Rose sighed in relief. "It's War," she said, as Dean ran over and began working on her bonds.

"We know," Dean replied. "And he's using the ring to mess with people's minds."

"We need to cut it off," she said, faintly recalling her lessons in heaven on the various supernatural creatures. Memories of wings and grace and lessons of duty. Memories of the black wings of her nestmate wrapped around her as Gabriel teased them.

She was brought back to reality by Dean. "We do?" He asked, confused

"Y-yeah." Stupid. Humans didn't know that. "Cut off his power, and we kill him. The Doctor faced a creature like that once before." Lie, but Dean didn't need to know that.

Dean shrugged. "Okay, we'll try that."

Rose stood up, rubbing her wrist, and followed the others out of the room.

…

She followed Sam and Dean, leaving Ellen and Jo and the other man, who she had found out to be Rufus, to placate the two sides of the town. They followed War, as he walked to a cherry-red mustang, and she and Sam held him down whilst Dean sliced off his fingers.

A gold ring clattered to the ground, and War and his car disappeared.

…

"So, pit stop at Mount Doom?" Dean asked, inspecting the ring in his fingers. They sat at a park bench, just outside of town, Rose sitting next to Sam with Dean opposite. Sam smirked slightly.

"Dean-" He started, but Dean put up a hand, stopping him from saying anything else.

"Sam, let's not."

"No, listen, this is important," he said. "I know you don't trust me."

Dean just looked away.

"Just, I realised something. I don't trust me either."

Dean looked back, startled.

"From the minute I saw that blood, only thought in my head...and I tell myself it's for the right reasons, my intentions are good, and it, it feels true, you know? But I think, underneath...I just miss the feeling." He sighed. "I know how messed up that sounds, which means I know how messed up I am. Thing is, the problem's not the demon blood, not really. I mean, I, what I did, I can't blame the blood or Ruby or...anything. The problem's me. How far I'll go. There's something in me that...scares the hell out of me, Dean. In the last couple of days, I caught another glimpse..."

"What are you saying?" Dean asked.

"I'm in no shape to be hunting," He said. "I need to step back, 'cause I'm dangerous. Maybe it's best we just...go our separate ways."

Dean thought for a moment, before turning back to Sam. "I think you're right."

Sam sighed. "I was expecting a fight."

"The truth is," Dean said. "I spend more time worrying about you than doing the job right. And I just, I can't afford that, y'know? Not now."

Sam nodded, dropping his head. "I'm sorry, Dean."

"I know you are, Sam."

Sam stood up, and began to walk to the Impala, before turning back. "Take care of yourself, Dean."

Rose stood up, and threw her arms around Sam's shoulders, before pulling away. "It was nice meeting you," She said, smiling sadly. "Remember, you can forgive yourself."

He smiled. "Thanks, Rose. It was nice to meet you, and I hope you find the Doctor."

"You'd better keep in touch, okay? I want to hear from you at least once a month." She patted his shoulder, and he turned and walked to a waiting pickup truck, chucking his duffel bag in the back seat.

After the truck drove away, she turned to Dean. "Can I stay with you? I may leave occasionally, but I can help you hunt."

He nodded. "Sure."

He pulled open the door of the Impala, and she got in the backseat. "Thank you, Dean."

He smiled. "No problem."

 **Merry Christmas to all! I hope you enjoy this, and hopefully I'll post in two weeks. Please, please review, and leave comments. I'll love you all.**


	7. Chapter 7

Rose lay on a bed in a motel room, pretending to sleep, when she saw wings. She panicked, drawing up the last remnants of her human soul, and layered Bad Wolf over the top. She tucked her wings tight in her back, and sat up, rubbing her eyes.

There was an angel in the room, his ebony wings raised, standing over her bed. She recognised him immediately. Angel's wings were unique, not one coloured the same, or shaped the same. Only one angel in the whole of heaven's legion had wings like a raven's, inky black and as smooth as water.

Castiel.

Her nestmate.

"Dean?" She asked, looking at where Dean was standing behind Castiel, cleaning his hands on a cloth. "Who's this?"

"This is Castiel," he said. "He's an angel."

She nodded, and sat up, running a hand through her hair in an attempt to tame the frizz overtaking it. "Hello, Castiel," she said, and her makeshift camouflage must have worked, because there was no flicker of recognition crossed his face. "I'm Rose, Rose Tyler. I'm working with Dean, for the moment." She got up and padded to the motel kitchen, flicking on the cheap kettle sitting in the corner. She rubbed her eyes and waited for the kettle to boil as Castiel and Dean chattered in the background.

She looked at Castiel, at the angel who had whispered with her in between sparring matches and during lessons on history and monsters and duty. He'd changed. He was much more formal now, his wings stiffer, his back straighter, and his words clipped and brusque. But she could see, his humanity shining through, the same fluffy-winged fledgling that she remembered. Humanity had changed him, in a good way, she thought. She could see his grace stripping, his wings slowly losing their feathers. He was falling, she noticed sadly. That had always been his greatest fear. She sipped her tea, as Dean snatched up his keys, and she went to pack her makeshift duffel bag.

…

They pulled up outside a police station, and Castiel, Dean and her got out, dressed in cheap suits, FBI badges resting in their pockets.

"And we're here why?" Dean asked, turning to Castiel.

"A deputy sheriff laid eyes on the Archangel," Castiel said.

"And he still has _eyes_?" Dean said incredulously. "All right, so what's the plan?"

Castiel thought for a moment. "We'll... tell the officer that he witnessed an angel of the Lord, and the officer will tell us where the angel is."

"Castiel, we can't just walk in there and tell the truth," Rose said. "People would lock us up."

"Why?" Castiel asked, tilting his head slightly.

"Because," Dean said. "We're humans." He pulled a leather wallet out of his pocket, before, placing it inside Castiel's tan trench coat. He reached out and fixed his tie, twisting it round and pushing it up to his collar. "And when humans want something really, really bad, we lie."

Why?" Castiel said again, squinting at Dean in confusion.

"Because that's how you become President." Dean buttoned Castiel's suit, and turned and walked away. Castiel followed still staring at Dean's back. _My God,_ Rose thought, grinning. _My little brother is head over heels in love with Dean Winchester._ She trailed after Castiel, letting her wings trail out a little behind her, watching as Castiel's inky black feathers ruffled in the wind.

…

They walked up to a policeman, and Dean cleared his throat. "Detective Framingham?"

The man turned around, and Dean pulled out his FBI badge and held it where the policemen could see. "Hi. Alonzo Mosely, FBI, and these are my partners, Eddie Moscone, and Gail Phillips." Rose pulled out her badge, but Castiel just stood stiffly and stared at the man.

"Also FBI," Dean said, and Castiel just kept staring. He nudged him, and Castiel reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his badge, flipping it open, upside down. Dean pursed his lips and flipped it the right way. "He's, uh, he's new," He explained at the Detective's confused look. "Mind if we ask you a few questions?"

"Yeah, sure. Talk here, though," he said, leading them to his office with an apologetic wave at his ear. "Hearing's blown to hell in this one," he explained.

"That happen recently?" Dean asked, and the man nodded.

"Yeah. Gas Station. Why you're here, isn't it?"

"Yep." Rose grinned. The detective pulled out a chair, and sat down, and they followed suit.

"You mind uh, running us through what happened?" Dean asked.

"A call came in. Disturbance outside the Pump 'n Go on Route 4."

"What kind of disturbance?" Dean interrupted, drawing the Detective's attention to him

He shook his head in disbelief. "Wouldn't of believed it if I hadn't of seen it myself. We're talking riot, full-scale."

"How many?" Rose asked, leaning forward on her seat.

"Around thirty or forty, in all out kill-or-be-killed combat."

Rose's eye widened, and Dean asked, "What d'you think set them off?"

"Angels and Demons, probably," Castiel said offhandedly. The Detective stared at him, and he stared right back. "They're skirmishing all over the globe." She knew that, from the muffled chatter of the angel radio. The detective blinked in surprise. "Come again?" He said, before turning to Dean. "What did he mean?"

"Nothing," Dean said, as Castiel said, "Demons." Dean sighed in annoyance, and tried again.

"Nothing," "Demons." Rose stood on Castiel's toe, and he shut up.

Dean smiled tightly. "Demons, y'know, drink, adultery. We all have our demons, uh-" he checked the Detective's nametag. "Walt."

The Detective looked back and forth between Castiel and Dean, then shrugged. "I guess."

Rose pressed her lips together to muffle a laugh.

Dean looked at Castiel for a moment, then turned back to the detective. "Anyway," he said awkwardly. "What happened next?"

"Freaking explosion, that's what happened." He said. "They said it was one of the underground gas tanks, but I don't think so."

"Why not?" She said.

"Wasn't your usual fireball," he explained. "It was more like this-"

"White light," Castiel guessed, and the Detective nodded.

"Yeah. Gas station was levelled. Everyone was..." He shuddered. "It was just horrible. And I see this one guy, kneeling, real focused-like, not a damn scratch on him."

"You know him?" Dean asked.

"Donnie Finneman," the Detective said. "Works as a mechanic there."

"And let me guess," Dean said. "He just vanished into thin air?"

The Detective looked at him weirdly. "Uh, no, Kolchak. He's in Saint Paul's."

Castiel turned to Dean, his eyes wide. "Saint Paul's," He repeated slowly, emphasising the _saint_.

Dean smiled tightly at the Detective. "Thank you," he said, and pushed his chair up to leave. Castiel followed, and Rose came up the back. She watched as Castiel stared after Dean, his soul and Castiel's grace shining brightly.

She thought, perhaps, if there was ever such a thing as soul-mates, it would be them. A hunter and an Angel, two immense ends of the scale, balancing each other out and keeping each other safe.

 **I hope everyone had a really great christmas, and a fantastic new years!**

 **This chapter does have small amounts of Destiel, and perhaps I'll expand on that later, perhaps not. Either way, I hope you enjoyed it!**

 **Please review, and I will love you forever.**


	8. Chapter 8

They were in Saint Paul's Hospital, looking through a window at what was left of Donnie Finneman. He sat in a wheelchair, unmoving, staring blankly at the corner of the room.

"So I take that's not Raphael anymore?"

"No," Castiel said. "Just an empty vessel."

"Is this what I'm looking at if Michael jumps in my bones?" He asked, quieter. Rose winced, and looked away, knowing Dean's fate if Michael ever possessed him.

"No, not at all," Castiel said, voicing her thoughts. "Michael is much more powerful. It will be much worse for you."

Dean looked away.

…

They sat in an abandoned house, Dean leafing through an old journal and Rose rummaging through her bag. She would have to go to this universe's Torchwood, soon, to visit Jack and acquire a vortex manipulator. Maybe she could ask Castiel. She could fly, but that would alert Dean to what she was. And to fly on an aeroplane… that would take too long. She couldn't afford to wait, what with the apocalypse looming over their heads.

There was the flap of wings and Rose caught a flash of black out of the corner of her eyes. They turned, and Castiel dropped a dusty jar onto the table, and a liquid sloshed in the bottom. Holy Oil, she guessed. She tried to discreetly scoot as far away from the jar as possible. Whilst Castiel's fear had always been falling, hers had been burning in Holy Fire. Stupid, she knew, but she remembered watching another fledgling burning to death when they had been training. Training had been brutal, in Heaven.

"Where've you been?" Dean asked.

"Jerusalem," Castiel replied, with the same air as if he had just said _at the shops_. Rose smiled slightly.

"How was it?" Dean said in the same tone.

"Arid."

Rose snickered.

"What's in the Jar?" Dean questioned, eyeing the dusty jar in distaste.

"It's oil," Castiel said. She guessed right then. "Very special, very rare." Castiel sat down, watching the jar.

"So, what, we trap Raphael with a nice vinaigrette?" Dean asked.

"No," He said.

"So this ritual of yours when's it got to go down?" Dean asked.

"Sunrise," Castiel said.

Dean paused, thinking. "Tell me something. You keep saying we're gonna trap this guy. Isn't that kinda like trapping a hurricane with a butterfly net?"

Castiel shook his head. "No, it's harder."

Dean leaned back in his chair. "Do we have any chance of surviving this?"

"You might," Castiel said. "You won't," he said apologetically to her.

"That's okay," She said. "I'm fine with that. Dean, if I die, you save the world. You stop the Apocalypse and all that comes after."

Dean nodded. "I will." He turned back to Castiel. "So chances you're a dead man tomorrow?"

Castiel nodded. "Yes."

"So, last night on earth, what are your plans?"

Castiel looked suddenly awkward in his chair. "I just thought I'd… sit here quietly."

She smiled. "Tea and a book, maybe at the library. Could you drive me there?" She pulled _The Book Thief_ from her bag, and the teabags she had gotten only after she threatened Dean until he bought them.

"C'mon, anything?" Dean asked Castiel, seemingly satisfied with her response "Booze, Women?"

Castiel Just looked away, shifting in his seat.

"You _have_ been with a woman before, right?" Dean asked, Castiel looking increasingly uncomfortable. "Or at least another Angel?"

Castiel rubbed the back of his neck.

"You mean to tell me," Dean said, grinning. "That you've never been up there doing a little cloud-seeding?"

"I just- I never found the time, alright?" Castiel snapped, uncomfortable. Dean smirked, and shrugged on his jacket.

"Let me tell you something," He said, straightening is jacket sleeves. "There are two things I know for certain. One, Bert and Ernie are gay. Two, you are not gonna die a virgin. Not on my watch. Let's go."

He turned and walked out of the building, and Rose followed, and Castiel trailed behind them, a terrified look on his face.

…

She got about 45 minutes of reading, almost finishing her book and draining two cups of tea, before Dean and Castiel burst into the coffee shop she was sitting in, Dean chuckling and grinning like a madman, Castiel with a shell-shocked expression on his face. "We going?" She asked, folding over the corner of the page she was on.

"Yep," Dean said, and she stood up and walked out of the café behind them, thanking the waitress as she left.

At the Impala, before she got in the beck, she put her hand on Castiel's shoulder, and he jumped. "You okay?" She asked, and he shook his head, his eyes wide. "Dean, I think you broke Castiel," She said, chortling, as they got in the car.

Dean smirked. "My pleasure."

…

At sunrise, they snuck into the Hospital, and watched as the nurse left before sneaking into Donnie's room. Castiel was already there, and when he saw them come in, he drew the jug of Holy Oil out of his coat pocket, and poured it in a circle around the man's wheelchair. Rose carefully avoided it ash she and Dean stood around it, memories of the fledgling's burning wings flashing behind her eyes.

"When the oil burns," Castiel explained to a mystified Dean, "No Angel can touch or pass through the flames, or he dies."

Rose flinched. Castiel noticed, and narrowed his eyes, but was distracted by Dean saying, "Okay, so we trap him in a steel cage of holy fie, but one question. How the hell do we get him here?"

Castiel stepped over the line of oil, and Rose bit her lip. "Very simple," He said, "There's, well, an open line between an Angel and his vessel. One just needs to know how to dial." He bent by Donnie's ear, and chanted in Enochian. Rose almost smiled. It had been a long time since she had heard anyone speak in her original tongue, and even longer since she had spoken it herself. Castiel finished chanting, following up with a short message. "I'm here, Raphael. Come and get me, you little bastard." He stood up, and walked out of the circle, and Rose breathed a mental sigh of relief.

"So, uh, what's the average wait time for an Archangel?" Dean asked, and Castiel pulled a box of matches from his coat.

"Be ready," He said, lighting a match, and dropping it on the oil, and they watched as the oil went up in flames. Rose scooted away as far as she could, and Castiel narrowed his eyes in confusion when he watched her.

She sat like that all day, as far back as she could go on the chest of drawers she sat on.

…

They pulled up outside the abandoned house, Dean still grumbling about 'a day wasted,' and everything, when a powerful grace, like electricity, crackled along her wings. She could see, out of the corner of her eye, Castiel feeling it too, and he put an arm out to stop them.

"Wait," he said, and walked into the main room, where Raphael stood, electricity arching in the outline of one of his wings. She froze, her hand going to her gun which Dean had given her.

"Castiel," Raphael said, glaring at the younger angel.

"Raphael," Castiel hissed, matching his glare.

They walked tentatively closer, to the middle of the room, where they could see Raphael clearly.

"And I thought you were supposed to be impressive," Dean said, interrupting their staring competition. "All you do is black out the room."

"And the eastern seaboard," Raphael said, his voice deeper than even Castiel's. Lightning flashed outside, illuminating the room. "It is a testament to my unending mercy-" Rose snorted. "-That I do not smite you now."

"Or maybe," Dean said. "You're just full of crap. You're afraid that God will bring Cas back to life again and smite you and your candy-ass skirt. By the way, Hi, I'm Dean."

"Rose Tyler," Rose said, waving from where she perched on the table.

"I know who you are," Raphael said, ignoring Rose completely. "And, now, thanks to him, I know where you are."

"You won't kill him," Castiel said, angling his body to protect Dean. "You wouldn't dare." Rose tensed too, ready to draw her angel blade if need be.

"I won't," Raphael agreed. "But I will take him to Michael."

Dean reached over and grabbed a beer off the table Rose sat on, flicking off the top. "Well then. Sounds terrifying, it does." He took a swig of the beer. "But, uh, hate to tell you, but I'm not going anywhere with you."

Raphael narrowed his eyes. "Surely you remember Zachariah giving you stomach Cancer?"

Dean smirked. "Yeah, that was hilarious."

"Well, he doesn't have anything _close_ to my imagination."

Dean's grin widened. "Well, bet you didn't imagine one thing."

He stared at Dean in confusion. "What?"

Dean pulled out a lighter and flicked it on. "We knew you were coming, you _stupid_ son of a bitch." He dropped it on the oil, and flames danced up around Raphael's feet. He glared at Dean, and Dean threw his hands up in a defensive position. "Don't look at me, it was his idea!" He said, pointing at Castiel.

"Where is he?" Castiel asked, and Rose leaned forward to listen.

"God?" Raphael asked. "Didn't you hear? He's dead, Castiel. _Dead_." He said it in a definitive tone, and Castiel's shoulders slumped.

"No." He whispered, and Rose echoed his sentiment.

"He's not dead." She knew that, she had memories of a voice whispering under the Bad Wolf in the hospital, whispering in her ear where she had to go.

"But there's no other explanation. He's gone, for good."

"You're lying!" Castiel protested.

Raphael shook his head, smiling bitterly. "Am I? Do you _remember_ the twentieth century? Do you think the twenty-first is going much better? Do you think _He_ would have let that happen?"

"Oh yeah?" Dean protested. "Who do you think invented the Chinese Basket Trick?"

"Careful, boy," Raphael warned in a dangerous tone. "That's my Father you're talking about." Rose had gotten used to Dean's casual blasphemy, but then again, she had been human and blasphemous herself for a good twenty four years.

"Yeah, who would be _so proud_ to know that His sons started the frigging _apocalypse_." Dean retorted.

"Who ran off and disappeared. Leaving no instructions and a world to run."

"What, Daddy ran off and disappeared? He didn't happen to work in a post office, did He?"

Raphael almost snarled. "You think this is _funny_?" He growled. "You're living in a _godless_ universe."

"And? What, you and the other kids decide to throw an apocalypse while He's gone?"

"We're _tired_. We just want it to be over." He did look tired then, for a second, his stony façade slipping a bit before sliding back up. "We're ready for paradise."

"So, what, God dies and makes you the boss, and you just decide to do what you want?"

Raphael narrowed his eyes. "Yes. And what we want, we get."

"If God is dead," Castiel tried, "Then why have I returned? Who brought me back?"

"Have you considered it might be Lucifer?"

"No," Castiel snarled, though Rose could see him wavering.

"Think about it," Raphael continued. "He needs all the rebellious Angels he can find. You know it adds up."

"That's not true," Rose said, and Raphael turned, as if he just noticed her.

"And you," He started, obviously recognising her on sight. Her disguise didn't work on Archangels, then. "You're meant to be dead."

"I get that a lot," She said, smiling viciously. "You can tell Uriel to shove his blade up his ass."

"Uriel's dead," Raphael said. "He was another agent of Lucifer, and was killed by the other fallen."

Castiel definitely looked at her weirdly, before turning to Dean. "Let's go."

"Castiel, I'm warning you. Do not leave me here. I _will_ find you."

"Maybe, you will," Castiel said, turning to go. "But not today. Today, you're my little bitch." He turned and left, and Dean said, "What he said," before running after Castiel to the car. Rose followed, carefully skirting around the flames, and stopping at the door to give a cheeky wave at the Archangel trapped in the middle of the room.

 **Okay. I am so, so sorry I haven't posted before this. I've been on holiday, and i have had NO time to write at all. So here. *Chucks out chapter* Enjoy!**

 **Also, please review, and I will donate one cupcake.**


	9. Chapter 9

They drove out of town quickly after that, Rose pretending to sleep to escape Castiel's probing glares. Castiel and Dean sat in the front, a comfortable silence broke when Dean asked, "You Okay?" Dean turned his head for a moment, to look at Castiel.

Castiel didn't say anything, just stared forlornly out the window.

"Look, I'll be the first to tell you that this little crusade of yours is nuts, but I do know a thing or two about missing fathers."

Castiel looked at Dean, slightly confused. "What do you mean?"

Dean adjusted his grip on the steering wheel, turning his head slightly to face Castiel. "I mean, there were some times when I was looking for my dad, when all logic said that he was dead, but I knew in my heart that he was alive." Castiel's shoulders relaxed slightly. "Who cares what some Ninja Turtle says, Cas, what do you believe?"

"I… I believe he's out there," He said tentatively, as if confirming it to himself.

"Good," Dean said. Smiling. "Then go find him."

Rose smiled and zoned out, and as soon as Castiel's wings flapped and he flew off, she let down her disguise and actually went to sleep, no longer worried that she would be discovered. She stretched out her wings, before wrapping them around her in semblance of a blanket, nestling into the soft feathers.

…

They hunted, for a while, tracking vampires and demons and whatever else stumbled there way. Castiel dropped in occasionally, to warn them of something or to give them information they might need for the hunt or just the general state of the world.

He was growing more suspicious of her, and her disguise was slipping on occasion as well. She was always quick to pull it back up, but sometimes she was sure Castiel caught a glimpse of her wings.

Dean was less suspicious, and she would tentatively tell him about her past with the Doctor, and some of the things that they saw. She remembered a night where they both sat in an empty field in the middle of nowhere, sleeping in the car and telling stories all night. She had pointed to a star, and told Dean about how they saved a planet made of ice from an alien made of fire, and how they had been accidentally married, in the culture of the natives on the planet. Dean laughed, and then asked, "Were you in love with the Doctor?"

She looked away, giving all the answer he needed.

"What happened? Why didn't you stay with him?"

"I… I don't want to talk about it. Not yet." It would bring on images of red sand and red blood, and of the Doctor dying in her arms. She couldn't bring those up, not ever. She didn't want to remember that. Dean nodded, and backed off.

"Have you ever been in love, Dean?" She asked.

"I… I don't know," He said. "I guess you don't have time for love, in my kind of job. I think, one or two times, I came close, but… no, I haven't." He pondered for a second. "Why do you ask?"

"Nothing." They sat in silence for a while, staring at the stars. She looked down, before admitting, "I am in love with the Doctor."

Dean smiled. "And that's why you want to find him?"

"Yeah," She said, smiling softly. "I don't really expect him to love me back, though. It'll have been hundreds of years since he last saw me, and he would've moved on." She frowned sadly. "I'm okay with that though. I just want to see him again."

Dean smiled sadly. "I will do everything in my power to make sure that happens," He promised. "We should probably hit the sack. We've got another case tomorrow, gotta hit the road early."

…

They dealt with the case, a ghost girl murdered by her father. Rose ached, after being thrown into a wall (repeatedly) by a murderous ghost. They pulled up at a hotel, bruised and sullen, pulling their duffels. There was a man outside, preaching to the masses about the apocalypse, and 'are you ready for the rapture?'

He stopped Dean, asking, "Excuse me, friend, but have you taken time to think about God's plan for you?"

Dean just continued walking, replying, "Too frigging much, pal."

"Trust me," Rose said to the man as she followed behind Dean. "It's nothing good."

The man just stared in shock.

…

Dean and Castiel were on the phone, when she came out of the bathroom, drying her hair in the cheap towel provided by the hotel. She was dressed in her usual clothes, a pair of sturdy boots, jeans, and a black t-shirt, with her TARDIS key slipped under her shirt and a knife strapped to her thigh. Dean smirked at something Castiel said, before launching back into conversation. She thought it was about the Colt, the mystical gun said to be able to kill anything. It might work, using it on Lucifer. She zoned out, and sat on the bed. Dean hung up on Castiel, telling Rose they were leaving in about four hours, and to get some rest while she could.

She relaxed, and Dean's phone rang again, bringing Sam, and more bad news.

…

"So you're his vessel, huh?" Dean said, flicking the top off a beer bottle. "Lucifer's wearing you to the prom?" Sam said something unintelligible over the phone. Dean smirked, and took a sip. "Just when you thought you were out, they pull you back in, huh, Sammy?"

She felt sorry for Sam. All he did was what he thought to be the right thing, and it ended up crashing back in his face, and now he was her brother's vessel.

She barely remembered Lucifer, as he had fallen when they were fledglings. But she remembered snowy white wings, and hiding with Castiel as he and Michael fought, graces lashing out like blades of pure light.

Michael had been different. His wings were russet-coloured, huge, red wings that filled the sky. Archangels had six wings, instead of one, that were faster, stronger, and just better than an average seraph's wings.

Dean put down the phone, sighing, and collapsed on the bed, his arms behind his head, and closed his eyes, falling asleep instantly. Rose collapsed onto her own bed, and was asleep not long after.

…

She woke to Dean shaking her, and the room buzzed to the residue of another Angel's Grace. She sat up, and swore, the hard springs of the mattress shell digging into her back. The room was older, the walls broken and mouldy with age. The mattress was little more than springs and a wire frame, and her duffel had disappeared. She swore again, pulling her knife from its holster. She looked outside what used to be a window, into a post-apocalyptic world, with crumbling buildings as far as the eye could see. "Time travel," She said. "Except it's wrong, all wrong. I've been to the future, and it doesn't look like this."

"Angels," Dean said bitterly.

"Yeah." She knew she should've gone to Torchwood and gotten that Vortex Manipulator off Jack.

"What year are we?" Dean asked.

 _2014,_ her Bad Wolf side told her. "Don't know," She said to Dean. "Do you have a weapon?"

Dean checked his jacket, before shaking his head. "Nope," He said, kicking down the rotten door. "Let's go."

…

They walked out onto the ruined street, Rose gripping her small knife and Dean glancing warily around. The area was devastated. There was nothing intact, and if anything was, it was covered in graffiti. They walked forward, stepping over glass and rubble, jumping when a sound came from an alley next to them.

There was a girl, with matted hair, her arms wrapped around a teddy bear.

"Little girl?" Dean asked, cautiously walking forwards. "Little girl?" the girl didn't make a sound, only glared suspiciously at Dean. "Are you hurt?" Dean asked. The girl still didn't move, and Dean said, "Y'know, the not-talking thing's kinda creepy-" He was cut off as the girl came at him with a shard of glass, snarling inhumanly. Dean knocked her to the ground, where she lay still. He turned round to face Rose, and glanced at something behind her. "Oh, crap," He said, and Rose spun, only to be met with a word spray-painted onto the wall.

CROATOAN.

Four men, obviously infected, came round the corner, and Rose raised her pitifully small knife.


	10. Chapter 10

They turned and ran. Two people, with one small knife between them, would not have a hope of defeating four infected. They ran, the streets a blur, the four people chasing after them.

They could see a fence, taller than they would be able to climb in the time it would take for the infected to catch them. They spun around, getting ready to fight, when a tank rolled around the corner. There was a man on top, firing at the infected with a machine gun, and the tank had music blaring from the speakers. A man jumped down, firing his gun, and the infected fell. Dean pulled rose into an Alley, and they waited until the soldiers finished off the infected.

…

It was dark, when they came back out. There was a sign on the fence, which they hadn't noticed when they were running for their life. _CROATOAN VIRUS HOTZONE_ , It read, _NO ENTRY BY ORDER OF ACTING REGIONAL COMMAND, AUGUST 1ST, 2014, KANSAS CITY._

"August first, 2014," Dean whispered, mystified.

…

They hotwired a car, and were about a hundred miles down the road when a voice echoed through the car. "Croatoan pandemic reaches Australia," Zachariah's nasally voice said from the backseat. Rose had seen his wings, had known he was coming, but Dean jumped.

"I thought I smelled your stink on this… _back to the future_ crap," He growled, gripping the steering wheel tighter.

"President Palin defends bombing of Houston," He continued, hefting the newspaper higher. "Certainly a buyer's market in real estate. Let's see what's happening in sports. That's right—no more sports. Congress revoked the right to group assembly. What's left of Congress, that is. Hardly a quorum, if you ask me."

"How did you find us?" Dean asked. Rose had refused Castiel's wards, saying her perception filter she had picked up from the Parallel Universe's Torchwood before she left would be disguise enough. If you could call Bad Wolf a perception filter.

Zachariah sighed. "We had to use some… unorthodox resources of late – human informants," He said bitterly. "We've been making inspirational visits to the fringier Christian groups. They've been given your image, told to keep an eye out."

Oh. "The apocalypse guy outside the hotel, he told you where we were?" Rose said.

"Onward, Christian soldiers," Zachariah said gleefully. Thank god she'd had her disguise up as soon as she woke up here, or Zachariah would've smote her there and then.

"Okay, well, good, great. You have had your jollies. Now send us back, you son of a bitch," Dean growled.

Zachariah grinned. "Oh, you'll get back—all in good time. We want you to… _marinate_ a bit."

"Marinate?" Rose said, slightly disgusted.

"Three days, guys," Zachariah said. "Three days to see where this course of action gets you, Dean."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean asked.

"It means your choices have consequences. _This_ is what happens to the world if you continue to say "no" to Michael. Have a little look-see." He grinned once more, then disappeared with a flap of his enormous grey wings.

…

They drove to Bobby's house, Rose and Dean swapping over halfway through driving so Dean could go to sleep. They got there in the morning, and Dean picked the lock quickly.

"Bobby?" He called, his voice echoing around the eerily quiet house. "Bobby, I'm coming in." Rose followed Dean as they cautiously stepped into the house. It was trashed, with papers everywhere, and a thick layer of dust on everything. "Oh, no," Dean said, running over to an overturned wheelchair with two bullet holes on the back, and dried blood ringing the holes. Dean bent down, touching the holes before standing up. "Where is everybody, Bobby?" He said, before pulling open a drawer, and withdrawing an old battered-looking journal, and opening it to the thickest page. He pulled out a photo, with Bobby and… was that Castiel? She leaned over his shoulder, looking at her incredibly human looking brother holding a shotgun, and standing next a sign reading 'Camp Chiquata.'

"D'you think they're there?" Rose asked.

"Might be," Dean replied. "We could check it out."

They walked back outside, opening the door of the car and getting ready for another car trip.

…

They arrived at Camp Chiquata in the early hours of the morning. Dean stopped in the trees, away from the guards roaming the fence, and ran to a dark shape near the edge.

"Oh, baby, no," He said, and Rose saw it was the _Impala_. It as rusted, and there were dents everywhere. Dean ran his hands over the car, assessing the damage, and Rose, watching on in dismay didn't see the person who sneaked up on her and knocked her out. But as she collapsed and the world when black, she thought she saw Dean getting punched in the face – by _himself._

…

She came to, and found she and Dean were tied to a ladder attached to the floor.

"The hell?" Dean asked, and she looked up to see… _Dean_ cleaning a gun.

"I think I should be asking that question, don't you think?" Other Dean said gruffly. "In fact, give me one good reason why I shouldn't be ganking you both right here and now?"

"Oh," She said, looking between the two Deans. "This is bad, this is very, very bad."

"Because… you'd only be hurting yourself?" The Dean sitting next to her offered.

"Very funny," Dean replied.

"Look, man – I'm no shapeshifter, demon, or anything, and neither's she, okay?"

"I know," Dean from the future said. "I did the drill while you were out. Silver, salt, holy water—nothing. But you know what was funny? Was that you had every hidden lockpick, box cutter, and switchblade that I carry. Now, you want to explain that? Oh, and the, uh, resemblance, while you're at it?" He paused, looking at his mirror image, and then moved onto Rose. "And want to explain why you're wearing the face of my dead best friend?"

"Shit, shit, this is bad, you shouldn't've told me that," Rose muttered, as Dean answered with a simple, "Zachariah."

2014 Dean sat up straighter, dropping the gun on the table. "Come again?"

"I'm you, and this is Rose, from the tail of 2009." 2014 Dean's eyes flickered to her for a second, before going back to his past self. "Zach plucked us from our bed and threw us five years in the future."

"Where is he?" 2014 Dean asked. "I want to talk to him."

"I don't know," Dean replied.

"Yeah, you don't know." 2014 Dean scoffed.

"No, we don't know. Look, we just want to get back to our own frigging year, okay?"

Okay, if you're me, tell me something only I would know."

Dean thought for a moment, and glanced at Rose, blushing, before looking back at Dean, smirking. "Okay, uh, Rhonda Hurley, we were, what, nineteen?" He blushed again before continuing. "She made us try on her panties. They were pink. And satiny. And you know what? We kind of liked it."

2014 Dean looked away. "Touché. And you?" He turned to Rose.

"Bad Wolf," was all she said, flashing her eyes gold.

Dean from her year jumped back. "What the hell is that?"

She blushed. "Side effect of travelling with the Doctor. I absorbed the time vortex, and that's just leftover artron energy. I'll explain later." _When we're not stuck in the future._

"So what, Zach just zapped you here to see how bad it gets?" Dean from the future asked.

"I guess. Croatoan Virus, right? That's their endgame?"

"It's efficient, it's incurable, and it's scary as hell. Turns people into monsters. Started hitting the major cities about two years ago. World really went in the crapper after that."

"Where's Sam?" Dean asked.

Future Dean froze. "Heavyweight showdown in Detroit. From what I understand, Sam didn't make it."

"You weren't _with_ him?" Dean said, appalled.

"No. No, me and Sam haven't spoken in… hell, five years." He sounded bitter about that.

"We never tried to find him?" Dean asked.

"We had other people to look after."

"What happened to me?" Rose asked softly.

"Well, the Demons figured you had more power than they would like, and you took a knife to the chest not two years ago."

"Oh," she said.

"Yeah, oh." Other Dean turned to leave.

"What, you're just gonna leave us here?" Dean asked.

"I got a whole camp of twitchy trauma survivors out ther with the apocalypse hanging over their head. The last thing I need is a version of the freaking parent trap and our very own Casper running around. So yeah, you stay locked down."

"Okay. All right. Fine. But you don't have to cuff us, man." Future Dean turned to glare at him. "What you don't trust yourself?"

"No," he said, then walked out.

"Y'know," Rose said once he'd gone. "Future you is a massive Douche."

Dean nodded. "Yeah," he said, and slowly picked at a nail from the floor, prying it out with his fingernails.

…

They walked out into the sunlight, rubbing their wrists.

"Hey, Dean, uh, you got a second?" Dean and Rose spun, and were met with a shortish man with mousy brown hair and icy blue eyes.

"No – yes, uh, I guess," Dean said, rubbing the back of his head. "Hi, Chuck."

Rose smiled, and ducked behind Dean.

Chuck smiled. "Hi. So, uh, listen, we're pretty good on canned goods for now, but we're down to next to nothing on perishables and—and hygiene supplies." He winced. "People are not gonna be happy about this. So, what do you think we should do?"

"I – I don't know, maybe, uh, share?" He smiled nervously at Chuck. "Y'know, like at a kibbutz?"

Chuck turned to Rose, eyes narrowed. "Aren't you dead?"

"I – I think you're thinking of someone else," She said lamely.

Chucks eyes flickered to someone behind Dean, and an expression of fear crossed his face. "Oh, no," He muttered, and Dean spun, narrowly missing being punched in the face. He ducked behind Chuck. "Whoa, Jeez! Easy, lady!"

"Risa," Chuck said sadly.

"Risa?" Dean asked, looking nervously at the woman.

Risa said, "You spent the night in Jane's cabin last night, didn't you?"

"Uh – I don't – did I?" He asked Chuck, and Chuck nodded forlornly.

"I thought we had a 'Connection'," Risa said, putting the words in air quotes.

Dean smiled, shaking his head slightly. "Well, I'm sure that we do-"

"Yeah?" Risa asked

"Uh, hi Risa," Chuck said, smiling slightly.

"Screw you," Risa spat at the both of them.

"Oh, jeez," Dean muttered. "I'm getting busted for stuff I haven't even done yet."

"What?" Chuck asked, confused.

"Oh, uh, nothing," Dean said. "Hey, Chuck, is Cas still here?"

Chuck rolled his eyes "I don't think Cas is going anywhere." He pointed towards a cabin near, and Den and Rose walked towards it.

 **Okay, I hope you enjoy!**

 **Also, Review! Please! Feedback, Questions, Constructive criticism - please! tell me what you think!**


	11. Chapter 11

Castiel was in a cabin, his legs wrapped in a lotus position, a group of women around him. He was talking to the, in a calm, smooth voice that was unlike his actual voice in so many ways. He was almost human, Rose saw sadly, and as he sent the girls away to speak with Dean.

"What are you, a hippie?" Dean said incredulously.

"I thought you'd stopped trying to label me," Castiel said, exasperated, before his gaze flickered to Rose. "Well, hello, subconscious. Bringing back my ghosts to haunt me."

"Cas, we gotta talk," Dean said, Ignoring is last statement.

"Whoa," Castiel said, looking between Rose and Dean "Strange. You are not you, not yet, anyway."

"No! Yeah, yes. Exactly." Dean cried, thankful that someone understood.

"What year are you from?" He asked.

"2009," Rose said.

"Who did this to you? Was it Zachariah?"

"Yep," Rose said unhappily.

"Interesting," Castiel said, drumming his fingers on his chin.

"Yeah, it's frigging fascinating." Dean grumbled. "Now, why don't you strap on your angel wings and fly me back to my page on the calendar."

Castiel smiled a happy, lazy smile. "I wish I could just, uh, strap on my wings, but sorry, no dice."

Oh, poor Castiel. She could see a faint outline of wings, barely sticks on his back. She reached out and touched it, almost subconsciously, and he flinched.

"Are you _stoned_?" Dean asked, eyes narrowing.

"Generally," Castiel said dismissively.

"What happened to you?" He said sadly.

Castiel shrugged. "Life."

…

They watched from the tree line, as Douche Dean came back. He clambered out of the car, then levelled his gun at the man in front of him.

"Watch out!" Dean cried, and the man started to turn, but fell when Dean shot him.

He turned, and saw them, standing shocked at the edge of the trees, and sighed. "Dammit," He muttered, rubbing his head, before turning to address the soldiers near him. "I'm not gonna lie to you. Me and them—it's a pretty messed-up situation we got going. But believe me, when you need to know something, you will know it. Until then, we all have work to do." The soldiers nodded, then dispersed, then Dean came storming over towards them.

…

He threw them both into a room, slamming the door behind them. "What was that?" He growled.

"What was _that_?" Dean asked, matching his tone. It was kind of creepy, actually. "You just shot a guy in cold blood!"

Future Dean glared at his past self. "We were in an open quarantine zone. Got ambushed by some Croats on the way out."

Dean narrowed his eyes in confusion.

"Croats, Croatoans." Dean explained. "One of them infected Yager."

"How did you know that?" Rose asked accusingly.

"Because, after a few years of this, I know. I started seeing symptoms about a half an hour ago." He sighed. "Wasn't gonna be long before he flipped. I didn't see the point in troubling a good man with bad news."

"Troubling a good man? You just – blew him away in front of your own people."

Dean rolled his eyes. "It's 2014. Plugging some Croat, that's called commonplace. Trading words with my frigging _clone_ and my _dead best friend_ – that might've freaked them out a bit."

"All right, look-" Dean started, before he was interrupted by himself.

"No, you _look_. This isn't your time. It's mine. You don't make the decisions, I do. So when I say stay in, you _stay in_."

"All right, man. I'm not trying to mess you – me – _us_ up here."

"I know," Future Dean said gruffly.

He sighed. "Look, it's just been a really wacky weekend."

His future self sighed. "Tell me about it," He said, pouring three glasses of alcohol and passing them around. Dean and Douche Dean both paused to scull the glass with a practiced air, before slamming it to the table. Rose just put hers on the table.

"What was the mission, anyway?" Dean asked.

His clone dug around in his pockets for a while before withdrawing an ornately carved gun.

"The Colt?" Dean asked, shocked.

"The Colt," His future self confirmed.

"Where was it?" Dean asked.

"Everywhere." He replied. "They've been moving it around. Took me five years, but I finally found it. And tonight – tonight, I'm gonna kill the devil."

…

After everyone examined the Colt, marvelling and fangirling all round, and future Dean explained where they were going, Dean pulled them aside. "You're coming with us, because I want you to see something."

"See what?" Rose asked.

"What happened to Sammy. What happened to our brother."

"I thought you said he died?" Dean said, shocked.

"Sam didn't die in Detroit," Future Dean said. "He said "He said _yes_."

"Yes?" Rose asked, but Dean's eyes widened.

"Wait. You mean-"

"That's right," Future Dean confirmed grimly. "The big 'yes'. To the devil. "Lucifer's wearing him to the prom."

"Why the _hell_ would he do that?" Dean exclaimed.

"Wish I knew. But now we don't have a choice. It's in him, and it's not getting out. And we've got to kill him, Dean." He addressed his past self directly. "And you need to see it—the whole damn thing, how bad it gets—so you can do it different."

Dean narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Zach said he was gonna bring you back right? To oh-nine?"

Rose thought she could see where he was going with this.

"Yeah," Dean said warily.

"Well, when you get back home, you say 'yes', y'hear me? Say 'yes' to Michael."

Yep, she was right.

"That's crazy. If I let him in, then Michael fights the Devil. He'll torch half the planet!"

"Look around you, man!" Dean growled. "Half the planet's better than no planet, which is what we have now. If I could do it over again, I'd say 'yes' in a heartbeat!"

"So why don't you?" He growled back.

"I've tried! I've shouted 'yes' until I was blue in the face!" He looked wretched. "The angels aren't listening! They just – left – gave up! It's too late for me, but for you-"

"Oh no," Dean protested. "There's gotta be another way."

"That's what I thought!" Dean snapped. "I was cocky, never actually thought I'd lose. But I was _wrong_. Dean, I was _wrong_. So I'm begging you, say yes!"

"I-" Dean started, but his future self interrupted him.

"But you won't, because I didn't." Dean sighed. "Because that's just not us, is it?" He turned and stomped away.

…

They left at midnight, after some wise words from Chuck – "You _hoard_ toilet paper, you got it? Hoard it like it's made of _gold_. 'Cause it is." – Following a parade of vehicles, Future Dean at the front. They were in Castiel's car, and he downed some pills, one hand on the steering wheel, one hand gripping the bottle.

"Let me see those," Dean said, and Castiel handed over the pill bottle.

"You want some?" He asked.

" _Amphetamines_?" Dean asked, reading off the bottle.

"It's the perfect antidote to the absinthe," Castiel said, grinning.

Dean frowned. "Mmm. Don't get me wrong, Cas. I, uh. I'm happy that the stick is out of your ass, but—what's going on with the drugs and the orgies and the love-guru crap?"

Castiel laughed, a hollow, empty laugh.

"What's so funny?" Dean asked.

"Dean, I'm not an angel anymore."

"What?" Dean exclaimed.

"Yeah, I went mortal."

How?" Rose asked.

"I think it had something to do with the other angels leaving. But when they bailed, my mojo just kind of— psshhew!—drained away. And now, you know, I'm practically human. I mean, I'm all but useless. Last year, broke my foot, laid up for _two_ _months_."

"Wow." Dean said.

"Yeah," Castiel said grumpily.

"So, you're human. Well, welcome to the club."

"Thanks." He said, bitterly. "Except I used to belong to a much better club. And now I'm powerless. I'm hapless, I'm hopeless. I mean, why the hell not bury myself in women and decadence, right? It's the end, baby. That's what decadence is for. Why not bang a few gongs before the lights go out? But then that's, that's just how I roll."

Rose reached out, brushing her wingtips over Castiel's broken wings in comfort, and he flinched.

…

"Y'know," Castiel said, halfway through the car trip. "You died protecting me."

Rose sat up straighter, and Dean turned to look at Cas. "I did?" She asked.

"Yeah. The knife was meant to go in my chest, and you jumped in the way."

"Oh Castiel," She said, brushing her wings over his again. "I- I'm sorry.

"Please stop doing that," He said, his wings tensing. "It only reminds me of how screwed up they are."

Rose withdrew her wings, tucking them against her back. "Sorry."

"What? What did she do?" Dean asked, and Rose shook her head.

"Nothing." Rose said. She paused, then added, "I would do it again, if it comes to it."

"Please don't," Castiel begged. "Please don't. Let me die, next time. Please. I can't lose you."

…

They walked into the courtyard of an oldish building, the garden overgrown and the bricks crumbling.

"There," Future Dean said. "Second floor window. We'll go in there."

"You sure about this?" A woman asked.

"They'll never see us coming," Dean said assertively. "Now, weapons check. We're on the move in five."

"Hey, uh, me." Dean said. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

He muttered something to Dean at the side, before his future self punched him, and he fell. "Hey!" Rose cried. "What was that for?"

Dean didn't flinch, and shot her in the head. She fell, stunned, and glared at Dean. "Stay there, _Rahmiel_ ," He snapped, before turning back to the rest of his group.

The bullet popped out of her skull and the skin healed over, but she didn't move. Eventually her dizziness got to her, and she blacked out.

…

Rose woke up to gunfire and screams. " _Castiel_ ," She said, attempting to get up, but Dean held her down. She looked at him, to see him watching his future self lying on the ground, a shoe-clad foot pressing onto his neck. The person shifted, and an audible _snap_ rang out. Dean's future self fell limp.

They looked up, and the man who had did it was dressed in a sharp white suit, his rich brown hair slicked back. He turned around, and Rose froze. It was Sam, but it wasn't.

 _Lucifer_.

"Oh," Lucifer said, Sam's voice echoing around. "Hello, Dean, Rose."

…

"Aren't you a surprise," He said, and lightning flashed, and suddenly he was behind them. They jumped, and spun around. "You two have come a long way to see this, haven't you?"

"Well, go ahead," Dean said, spreading his arms slightly. "Kill me."

Lucifer glanced at Dean's corpse, before his gaze flickered back to them "Wouldn't that seem a bit… redundant?" He smiled briefly. "I'm sorry. I must be painful, speaking to me in this shape. But it had to be your brother. It had to be." He reached for Dean's shoulder, perhaps in comfort, but Dean flinched away. He sighed. "You don't have to be afraid of me, Dean. What do you think I'm going to do?"

"Oh, I dunno, maybe _deep-fry the planet_?" Dean said sarcastically, glaring at Lucifer.

Lucifer ran his fingers across a rose, before turning back to them. Lucifer grinned, an eerie look on Sam's face, and so _unlike_ Sam that Rose shuddered. "Why? Why would I want to destroy this _stunning_ thing?" Dean looked confused, and the Devil continued talking. "Beautiful in a trillion different ways. The last perfect handiwork of god," Lucifer said appreciatively, looking to Dean for a Reaction, and when he didn't flinch, he continued speaking. "Did you ever hear the story of how I fell from grace?"

 _Too many times,_ Rose thought. If witnessing Michael and Lucifer's fight hadn't been bad enough, her superiors had taught her the importance of obeying by retelling the story, over and over again, until they could recite it in several different languages. In their metaphorical sleep.

"Oh good god," Dean groaned. "You're not going to tell me a bedtime story, are you? My stomach's almost out of bile."

Lucifer chose to ignore him instead saying, "You know why God cast me down? Because I loved him. More than _anything_. And then, God created..." He grimaced. "You. The little hairless apes. And then he asked us to bow down to you – to love you, more than Him. And I said, "Father, I can't." I said, "These human beings are _flawed, murderous_." And for that, God had Michael cast me into hell." Dean still didn't react. "Tell me, does the punishment fit the crime? Especially when I was _right_? Look at what six billion of you have done to this thing, and how many blame me for it." He curled his lip in distaste.

"You're not fooling me, you got it?" Dean growled, glaring a Lucifer. "With that – sympathy-for-the-devil crap. I know what you are."

Lucifer looked intrigued. "What am I?"

"You're the same thing, only bigger. The same brand of cockroach I've been squashing my whole life." Lucifer's eyebrows rose in amusement. "An ugly, evil, belly-to-the-ground, supernatural piece of crap. The only difference between them and you is the size of your ego."

Lucifer grinned, the same not-Sam grin as before. "I like you, Dean. I see what the other angels see in you." He said, straightening his suit jacket. "Goodbye. We'll meet again." He tuned, and began to walk away.

"You'd better kill us now!" Dean cried to his retreating back.

Lucifer turned, an almost-smile gracing his face. "Pardon?"

"You better kill us now. Or I swear, we will find a way to kill you." Rose nodded slightly, glaring at her older brother. "And we won't stop."

Lucifer smiled, shaking his head slightly. "I know you won't. I know you won't say yes to Michael, either. And I know you won't kill Sam. Whatever you do, you will always end up here. Whatever choices you make, whatever details you alter, we will always end up—" He spread his arms, gesturing to the garden and to Dean's dead body. "—Here. I win. So, I win"

"No," Rose said, shaking her head. "No."

"You're wrong," Dean said.

Lucifer smiled. "See you in five years, Dean."

Lightning flashed, and the last thing they saw was Zachariah reaching for them.

…

They were back in the hotel, the beds repaired, and the walls mould-free. Zachariah stood in front of them, a smirk lighting up his face. "Well," Dean growled. "If it isn't the ghost of Christmas screw you."

"Enough, Dean, enough," Zachariah reprimanded. "You saw it, right? You saw what happens. You're the only one who can prove the Devil wrong. Just _say yes_."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "How do I know this isn't one of your tricks? Some – angel hocus-pocus."

Zachariah sighed. "The time for tricks is over. Give yourself to Michael. Say yes, and we can _strike_. Before Lucifer gets to Sam. Before billions die."

Dean turned away from Zachariah, thinking for a minute, before replying with an offhand, "Nah."

Zachariah looked taken aback. "'Nah?' You're telling me you haven't learnt your lesson?"

"Oh, I've learnt a lesson alright. Just not the one you wanted to teach." He grinned at Zachariah, and Rose flinched at the fury on his face.

"Well, I'll just have to teach it again!" Zachariah said, moving towards Dean. "Because I've got you now, boy, and I'm never letting you–" Castiel's Grace lashed out, drawing Dean away, and she spread her wings and flew after him, leaving a furious Zachariah at the hotel room.

…

If Castiel wasn't suspicious of her before, her landing when he hadn't pulled her had definitely let him know that she wasn't who she said she was. He smiled at Dean, looking like a puppy in love, and Dean had placed a hand on his shoulder and said, "Don't _ever_ change."

Castiel almost blushed, instead asking "How did Zachariah find you?"

"Long story," Dean said. "Let's just stay away from Jehovah's Witnesses from now on, okay?" He pulled out his phone, and Castiel frowned.

"What are you doing?" He asked, and Dean smiled at him.

"Something I should've done in the first place." As he held the phone up to his ear, speaking in it to who she presumed to be Sam, She turned to Castiel, and asked, "Could you fly me to Cardiff? To Roald Dahl Plass?" Castiel nodded, and grabbed her shoulder, and they disappeared.

…

He didn't fly her to Cardiff.

They were still in America, she thought, in an alley. He slammed her into a wall, his blade at her throat. "Who are you?" He growled. "And what do you want with the Winchesters?"

She sighed, letting her wings open slightly, and spoke, for the first time in a long time, in her original language. "Hello, Castiel," She whispered, and he stumbled back, shocked.

"R-Rahmiel?"

 **Well, Rose is shoddy at keeping secrets.**

 **As always, I hope you enjoyed! Comment what you think, criticism, suggestions, questions, anything!**


	12. Chapter 12

"I thought you were dead!" Castiel yelled, a look of incredible hurt flickering across his face.

"Not dead," she whispered, still speaking in Enochian. "Just fallen."

"Why?" He asked. "Why did you go without telling me, or someone else?"

"Because I disobeyed," She said. "Because I saved someone I shouldn't have. And rather than being killed, or cast down with Lucifer, I fell."

"I thought you died," He whispered again. "I thought you died. I couldn't- not after Gabriel-" He stopped, looking away. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I couldn't," She said. "I would've if I could, but they were coming too fast, and I had to fake my death."

He reached out with his wings, brushing his feathers over her shoulder. "Don't do it again. Please, don't do that again."

She smiled. "I'll try." She reached around and hugged him, throwing her arms around his shoulders and enveloping him in her wings. He was stiff at first, before he melted into her embrace. "I missed you, Rahmiel."

"I missed you too, Castiel."

Suddenly, she grinned. "Race you to Cardiff." She spread her wings, no longer afraid of who would see, and flew, somersaulting and diving and spinning around her sibling, feathers glinting in the sunrise.

…

They landed in the hub, startling the two occupants in there. She turned to her sibling, smiling. "Thank you, Castiel," She said, and he smiled, and flew off, back to his search for their father. She turned to the two people, who had guns focused on her and smiled.

"Hello," She said, waving slightly. "Is Jack here?"

"Who are you?" The woman asked, her strong welsh accent filling the room.

"You're… Gwen, right?" She said, vaguely remembering the companion Skype call two years ago. "I'm Rose, Rose Tyler. We met…briefly, around two years ago. The Daleks?"

The woman's eyes widened in recognition. "Oh! You were with the Doctor, right? You asked about my family."

"Yes," She nodded. "Is Jack around here?"

"Rosie?" Jack's voice came from behind her, and she spun, grinning.

"Jack!" She cried, and threw her arms around him. "How are you?"

"Y'know, okay." He grinned. "Died a couple of times."

"Surprise, surprise," She laughed. Her face fell suddenly. "I'm sorry."

"What for?" Jack asked.

"Making you immortal," Rose said. "I'm so sorry."

"Why?" Jack said. "It's come in handy."

"But still," She whispered. "I'm sorry."

Jack hugged her again. "It's okay."

She pulled away suddenly, remembering why she was there. "Can I borrow your Vortex Manipulator?" She asked.

"Sure," Jack said, confused. "Why?"

"Because I'm looking for the Doctor, and I would like to look in time zones other than this one."

"Okay," Jack said. "Come to my office, and you can tell me everything."

…

She told him everything. She broke down when she talked about the Metacrisis, and how he'd died in her arms, and Jack had hugged her, whispering a soft "I'm sorry," into her hair.

Then she told him about the angels, and his eyes had widened. "You're an _angel_? God, Rosie, I always knew that, but now you mean… _literally_?"

She smiled sadly. "Most Angels aren't like me," She said. "Most of them are the greatest Douchebags you will ever meet, and will smite you where you stand."

He smirked. "Probably won't hurt me."

She raised an eyebrow. "True."

"And the Winchesters… they're the good guys? You're working with them?"

She nodded. "I… Bad Wolf told me where I needed to be, so I went."

"Oh, Rosie," He said, hugging her again. "If you ever need help from an Immortal man, just call me." He opened a drawer, pulling out a watch-like gadget, pressing it into her hands. "Don't scratch it. I may need it."

She smiled. "I will take utmost care of you Vortex Manipulator." She strapped it to her wrist, setting the controls to random. Before she hit the button to transport her, Jack grabbed her wrist.

"Take care of yourself, Rosie."

She smiled, and hit the button, disappearing with a pop.

…

She landed in what looked like a prison. The walls were grey, solid concrete with security cameras lining the walls. _Fifty_ - _first_ _century_ , Bad Wolf said. _Stormcage_. The greatest prison in the universe.

The corridor was suspiciously empty. No guards, no cells. High-security prisoner, maybe? But the lack of guards sort of disproved that. She walked down the corridor, one of the Winchester's guns in her hand.

"I like your wings," A voice said, and she spun. She was met with a woman, with a mop of curly blonde hair, kind green eyes and a bright, casual smile.

"Thank you," Rose said, confused. "You shouldn't be able to see them."

The Woman smiled. "I'm not your average person. What planet are you from?"

"Earth," She said. "Or Sol III, whatever you call it in this part of the galaxy."

The woman frowned. "You're not from earth. There is no-one on earth with invisible wings, nor so many timelines surrounding them."

Timelines. This woman could see timelines. Rose looked, not at the woman's vessel but her soul, and gasped. "How are you part Time Lord? The Time Lords are dead," She snapped, narrowing her eyes at the woman.

"How do you know I'm part Time Lord?" The woman snapped back.

"I can see your soul," Rose said. "Tell me how you escaped the Time War."

"Oh, sweetie," The woman said, grinning. "I was never in the Time War."

"No," Rose argued. "All Time Lords died in the Time War, except-"

"-The Doctor." The woman finished.

"You know him?" Rose asked.

"Oh, do I know that man," the woman said fondly. "I'm his wife."

Rose stumbled back, turning and flying away, to another part of the prison.

"No," She whispered. "No. Not possible." She slid down the cold concrete wall, head in her hands, wings wrapped around herself. She knew he would've moved on, but it still came as a shock. She thought she felt a tear, but she didn't know. She didn't care.

…

She heard the TARDIS echoing through the prison, and flew back, falling out of that Dimension as to watch.

The TARDIS was the same, beautiful bright blue towering over the rest of the prison. The TARDIS welcomed her back, her soul brushing against her wings in greeting and joy.

 _Hello, sister_ , she whispered in the TARDIS's consciousness.

A man poked his head out of the TARDIS doors, his mousy brown hair flopping over his bright green eyes. His cheekbones were high, and he wore a red bowtie around his neck. He was still beautiful, Rose thought. Still manic and ecstatically happy on the outside, and still impossibly sad on the inside. Rose watched as the woman's face lit up, and she smiled sadly.

"River!" He cried, pointing a green-tipped screwdriver at the cell, and it sparked and unlocked. The woman – River – Stood up, sliding a blaster into a holster on her thigh, and a Vortex Manipulator – Was that _Jacks_? – Onto her wrist.

"Hello, Sweetie," she said, and walked up and pecked him on the lips. "Where to today?"

"Well," He said, smiling and pondering for a moment. "How does the ruby waterfalls of K'halu Ren, followed by lunch with Queen Anne sound?"

"Will there be a stop-off in the markets of Moanada for Ice-cream?" She asked, and he grinned.

"Definitely." River smiled, and walked into the TARDIS, the Doctor's hand in hers, and Rose watched, a tear streaming down her face, as it slowly dematerialised.

She punched in the co-ordinates for twenty-first century earth, America, into Jack's Vortex manipulator, and disappeared.

 **First things first.**

 **THIS IS NOT A RIVER-BASHING FIC. River is awesome in every shape and form, and anyone who says the Doctor isn't in love with her is lying to themselves. The Doctor loves all his companions, that's why it's so much harder when they leave, or die, etc. However, Rose is a** ** _bit_** **resentful.**

 **Also, more Jack later (Hopefully).**

 **Tell me what you think! Reviews are gold.**


	13. Chapter 13

She landed, still crying, in a hotel room, where Dean quickly looked away from the TV and pulled out a knife. When he saw it was her, he relaxed.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

She smiled sadly, brushing away a tear. "Yeah, it's just – I saw the Doctor."

"Why are you here then?" Dean asked, and then his eyes widened. "Oh. He's moved on."

She smiled sadly. "Yeah. I don't blame him, it's probably been over a hundred years since he last saw me. I don't blame River, uh, the woman he's with, either." She smiled. "I'm glad he's happy, that he's not alone, it's just-"

"You love him." Dean said, nodding. "That's okay."

She sniffed, blinking the last tears out of her eyes. "What are we doing here?" She asked. "Is Sam with you?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

Sam walked in, and looked at the TV, where there were two characters making out in an elevator. "What are you watching?" Sam asked, before noticing Rose. "Hey Rose."

She smiled and waved. "Good to see you hunting again," She said.

"Uh, hospital show." Dean said, flicking off the TV. " _Doctor Sexy, MD_. I think it was based off a book."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "When did you hit menopause?" He asked.

Dean rolled his eyes. "It's called Channel Surfing," He said defensively. He reached onto the bedside table, grabbing his keys, and turned to Sam. "You ready?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah."

"I'll just get changed," Rose said. "You still have my bag?"

Dean threw it at her. "We're leaving in five."

…

"One more time," The police officer said. "The FBI are here why exactly?"

"Might have to do with one of your locals getting his _head_ ripped off." Dean said.

The officer rolled his eyes. "Bill Randolph died in a bear attack."

Sam sighed. "How sure are you that it was a bear attack?"

"What else would it be?" The officer said, shrugging.

"Well," Dean said. "Whatever it was, it chased Mr Randolph through the woods, smashed through his front door, followed him up the stairs, and then killed him in his _bedroom_. Is that common, a bear doing that?"

The officer shrugged again. "Depends on how pissed off it is, I guess." He sighed. "Look. The Randolphs live way up in high country. You got trout runs to make a grown man weep. _And_ bears."

Sam pursed his lips. "So, what about Mrs Randolph? The file said she saw the whole thing."

The officer nodded, bowing his head slightly. "My heart goes out to the poor woman."

"She said bear?" Dean asked.

The officer pursed his lips. "Kathy Randolph went through a hell of a trauma. She's confused."

"What did she say?" Rose asked, and the detective sighed, but still directed them to interview room.

…

"No, It must have been a bear," Kathy Randolph protested. "I mean, what else could it be?"

"Mrs Randolph," Sam asked cautiously. "What do you think you saw?"

"No, no," She said firmly. "I remember clearly now. It was definitely a bear."

Dean nodded. "We're sure it was. But it helps us to hear every angle."

"Can you please tell us what you think you saw?" Rose asked, reaching out to pat Mrs Randolph's shoulder.

Mrs Randolph bit her lip. "I… It's impossible, but I could've sworn I saw… the Incredible Hulk." She said the last words as a whisper.

Sam raised an eyebrow. "The Incredible Hulk."

"I told you it was crazy." Mrs Randolph said.

"Bana or Norton?" Dean asked, and Mrs Randolph shook her head.

"Oh, no, those movies were terrible. The TV Hulk."

"Lou Ferrigno." Dean said, and she nodded. "Spiky-haired Lou Ferrigno?"

"Yes," Mrs Randolph confirmed.

"Huh." Dean glanced at Sam and Rose, and Mrs Norton sighed.

"You think I'm crazy, don't you?"

"No," Dean said. "It's just… is there, uh, any reason that Lou Ferrigno, The Incredible Hulk, would have a grudge against your husband?"

Mrs Randolph frowned. "No."

…

They sat on the bed, Rose reading the article about Mr Randolph and Dean glancing between his computer and over her shoulder to see. Sam walked in, and smiled. "Hey," He said, and Rose waved.

"Hey," Dean replied. "Find anything?"

"Well, uh, I saw the house," He said.

"What'd you find?" Rose asked, discarding the article to look at Sam.

"There's a giant eight-foot-wide hole where the front used to be. It's almost like, uh-"

"A hulk shaped hole," Dean finished, nodding.

Sam smiled. "Maybe. What'd you find?"

"Well," Rose said. "This man had temper problems. He's had more than one count of spousal battery, he's been in bar brawls, and had court-ordered anger management sessions."

"You could say," Dean interjected. "You wouldn't like him when he's angry."

Sam's eyes widened. "So, a hothead being killed by TV's greatest hothead. Sounds kinda like Just Desserts, don't you think?" Dean snorted. Sam's eyes widened, and he smiled. "It's all starting to make sense."

"How is it starting to make sense?" Dean asked.

"Well," Sam said, digging around in his pocket. "I found something else at the crime scene." He pulled whatever he was searching for out of his pocket, and dropped it on the bed.

"Sweet wrappers," Rose said. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Dean groaned. "Just desserts, sweet tooth, screwing with people before he kills them, we're dealing with the Trickster, aren't we?"

"Looks like it," Sam sighed.

"The Trickster?" Rose asked.

"Good. I've wanted to gank that mother since mystery spot." Dean growled.

"I'm sorry, can someone explain?" Rose asked

"Oh, sorry," Sam said. "The Trickster is a… Demigod, of sorts, who likes to pull pranks on people, often with fatal punchlines. Last time we clashed with him, he killed Dean over a thousand times. In front of me."

She winced. "So, like a pagan Trickster God?"

Sam nodded. "I guess."

"Stake to the chest?" She asked, and Sam nodded.

"Dipped in the blood of its victims." He turned to Dean. "You sure?"

Dean's eyes hardened. "I'm sure."

"No, I mean, you sure you wanna kill him?"

Dean shrugged. "Son of a bitch didn't think twice about icing me a thousand times."

"No, I know, just-"

"What are you saying?" Dean asked. "If you don't want to kill him, then what?"

Sam paused. "Talk to him?"

"What?"

"Think about it, Dean," Sam said. "He's one of the most powerful creatures we've faced. We could _use_ him."

"Sorry, what?" Rose asked. " _Use_ him?"

"Yeah," Sam said. "Okay, so, the Tricksters a Hugh Hefner type, right? Wine, women, song – maybe he doesn't want the party to end. Maybe he hates this Angels and Demons crap as much as we do. Maybe he'll _help_ us."

Dean blinked. "Okay, you're serious."

Sam nodded. "Yeah.

"Ally with the _Trickster_." Dean said incredulously.

" _Yeah_."

"A bloody, violent _monster_ , and you wanna be _Facebook friends_ with him?"

Sam sighed. "The world is gonna end, Dean. We don't have the luxury of a moral stand, here." Dean rolled his eyes. "Look, I'm just saying it's worth a shot. That's all. If it doesn't work, we'll kill him."

Dean pursed his lips. "Fine."

"How do we find him, anyway?" Rose asked.

Sam smiled. "Well, he never takes just one victim. We just have to wait."

…

They sat in the motel room, where Sam was fiddling with the police scanner, and Dean was sharpening a stake. Rose sat with a book, only half interested in the words. They were all to hyperaware to focus on anything except for the scanner.

A voice, probably belonging to a younger man, echoed across the speaker, crackling with static. "Uh, dispatch?" they all sat up, listening closely. "I, uh, I got a possible one-eight-oh out here in the old paper mill on Route 6."

A pause, then a second voice crackled over the scanner. "Roger that. What've you got there, son?"

"Honestly, Walt?" the younger policeman said disbelievingly. "I don't know how to describe what I'm seeing. Just – send everybody."

Sam flicked off the scanner.

"That sounded like our sort of thing," Rose said, and Dean nodded.

"Weird enough to be our guy," Sam agreed, and they grabbed their bags.

 **Right... you know the episode.**

 **(Gabriel whoo!)**

 **Comment, please! I don't bite**


	14. Chapter 14

They were in the impala, and Dean was driving, following Sam's directions from an old tourist map. "So," Dean asked, looking in the rear-view mirror at Rose. "What's this Bad Wolf mojo that you have?"

She winced. She forgot Dean knew about that. "Well, you know how I said I absorbed the Time Vortex?"

"You _what_?" Sam asked incredulously.

"Well, not really the time vortex, more the heart of the TARDIS." She said quietly. "It's given me sort of prophetic powers, I guess. Regeneration powers supposedly, but that's never been tested. I hope to _never_ let it be tested. And, uh, when I held the full heart of the TARDIS, I may of, uh, erasedanarmyofdaleksfromtime," She said nervously.

" _Erased_ them?" Dean said, shocked. "Man, that's – that's some powerful mojo there. Probably rivalling _Cas's_." He looked up suddenly. "Can you do that to Lucifer?"

She shook her head sadly. "That would affect the timeline too much," She said. "The world would grow up without the legend of the Devil, and then what?"

Dean nodded. "Good point. Could you, y'know, disintegrate him _without_ erasing him from time?"

She frowned. "Probably… I'd need to re-absorb the heart of the TARDIS, and that made the Doctor regenerate last time. I don't know what the world would do if it stuffed up the TARDIS somehow. What the _universe_ would do."

"Another good point. We could… try?"

She nodded. "We should probably ask Castiel about it, see what he has to say."

He pulled the car to a stop, outside an abandoned looking warehouse. "We're here," He said, pulling open the door and stepping out. Sam and Rose followed suit, stretching slightly.

Dean frowned at the empty lot, not another person in sight. "There was a murder here," he murmured to them. "And there's no police cars. There's _nobody_. How's that look to you?"

"Crappy," Sam agreed.

Dean opened the trunk, pulling out a stake and a flashlight each, before handing them to Rose and Sam. Rose slipped her stake in her jacket, and gripped her flashlight, before following Sam and Dean into the building.

As soon as they pushed open the door, they froze.

They weren't in the warehouse any more, that much was clear. It was almost like a hospital, people running around in scrubs similar to the navy-blue ones they wore. Dean turned around, looking at the white door that they had come through. He pushed it open, closing it just as quickly when he saw the couple making out inside.

Two nurses walked past, nodding to them.

"Doctor," the blonde one said.

"Doctor," The brunette one said.

As they walked away, Sam turned to them and asked, " _Doctor_?"

Another nurse, who was brunette, turned away from the reception desk to walk over to where they were standing. She nodded at the three of them. "Doctor," She said sharply, before turning to Sam and slapping him, hard.

"Seriously?" She said angrily.

"What?" Sam asked.

"Seriously?" She asked again. "You're brilliant, you know that? And a coward. You're a brilliant _coward_."

Um," Sam said cautiously. "What are you talking about?"

She slapped Sam again. "As if you don't know!" She snapped, and stalked off.

Dean gasped suddenly, looking over at the Doctor like his greatest dream came true. "I don't believe this," he whispered giddily.

"What?" Rose asked.

"That's Doctor Piccolo," He said, gesturing to the doctor who had just walked away.

" _Who_?" Sam asked.

"Doctor Ellen Piccolo, the sexy, yet earnest Doctor at-" He gestured to the sign behind the reception desk. "Seattle Mercy Hospital!"

"Dean," Sam said, confused. "What the _hell_ are you talking about?"

"The Doctor getups," He gushed. "The, the sexy interns. The 'seriously's. It all makes sense!"

"I'm sorry, what? What's happening?" Rose asked. Dean turned to look at her, an ecstatic expression on his face.

"We're in _Dr._ _Sexy_ , _MD_!"

…

They walked further down the corridor in a stunned silence, before Dean turned to Sam. "What the hell, man?"

Sam shrugged, looking just as shocked as the rest of them. "I don't know."

"No seriously, what the _hell_?"

"I don't know," He said again.

"One theory," Dean asked. " _Any_ theory."

Sam rolled his eyes, but answered, "Uh. The Trickster trapped us in TV land."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "That's your theory." Sam nodded. "That's stupid."

Sam glared at Dean. "You're the one who said we were in _Doctor Sexy, MD_."

"Yeah, but TV land isn't TV land. I mean, there's actors, and – and lights and crew members, y'know? This looks _real_."

"It _can't_ be." Sam said firmly. "Dean, how can this _possibly_ be real?"

Dean shrugged. "I _don't_ know."

A woman walked past, nodding at them. "Doctors," She said, nodding.

Sam and Rose nodded, and Dean looked star struck. "There goes Doctor Wang, the sexy, yet arrogant heart surgeon," He whispered to them. He watched her walk down the hall, a giddy smile on his face. She walked past a man sitting on the end of a bed, and his eyes widened again. "And there's Johnny Drake," He said, still smiling. "Oh, he's not even alive. He's a ghost in the mind of-" He paused, and watched as another brunette Doctor walked up to Johnny Drake, sitting down beside him. "Her. The sexy, yet neurotic doctor over there."

"There's ghosts in this show? Why?" Rose asked.

Dean shrugged. "I don't know. It is compelling."

"I thought you said you weren't a fan," Sam said incredulously.

Dean's giddy smile fell to a more relaxed smile. "I'm not," He said firmly. "I'm not." He stilled suddenly, looking at something over their shoulders, his eyes as wide as saucers. "Oh, boy," He breathed.

"What?" Sam said, raising an eyebrow at Dean's excitement.

"It's him," Dean said again, his smile widening.

"Who?" Rose asked.

"It's him, it's Doctor Sexy!" Dean said, practically jumping up and down with excitement.

They turned to see a brunette-haired man with a short goatee stopping in front of them. He nodded at Dean. "Doctor."

Dean looked at his feet. "Doctor," he choked out, his voice squeaking.

Doctor Sexy turned to Rose. "Doctor." She nodded back, and echoed him. He said the same thing to Sam, who nodded. Dean elbowed him, and he rolled his eyes. "Doctor," he sighed.

Doctor Sexy turned back to Dean. "You want to give me _one_ good reason why you defied my _direct_ _order_ on performing the experimental face transplant on Mrs Biehl?"

Dean's face morphed into an expression of confusion. He glanced at Sam, and then back. "One reason?" The doctor nodded. "Sure."

He glanced down, and then back up at doctor Sexy, slamming him against the wall. "You're not doctor Sexy."

Doctor Sexy looked exasperatedly at Dean. "You're crazy."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Really? Because I _swore_ part of what makes Doctor Sexy _sexy_ is the fact he wears cowboy boots, not _tennis shoes_."

Sam smirked. "Yeah, you're not a fan."

"It's a guilty pleasure," he defended.

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Call security," he said to a passing nurse. She nodded and walked away.

"Yeah, go ahead, pal," Dean growled. "See, we know who you are."

Everything froze, except for them. The doctor smiled, before morphing into a short golden-haired, golden-eyed man. "You guys are getting better!" He exclaimed, and Dean presses his arm further against his throat.

"Get us the hell out of here," Dean snapped, and the Trickster (She presumed it was the Trickster) Smiled.

"Or what?" He asked, twisting Dean's arm around until he hissed in pain. "Don't say you have wooden stakes, big guy." He smirked, turning to Rose. "And you! You must be new. Haven't seen you around before."

"Rose Tyler," She growled. "It was you on the police scanner, am I right?"

"This is a trick," Sam realised.

The Trickster rolled his eyes. "Hello? Trickster." He gestured to himself. "I heard you two yahoos – plus Little Miss English – were in town, how could I resist?"

"Where the hell are we?" Dean asked.

"Like it?" He asked. "It's all homemade. My own sets-" he rapped on the wall. "My own actors." He gestured to the rest of the people standing frozen in the corridor. "Call it my own little idiot box."

"How do we get out?" Dean asked.

The Trickster smirked. "That, my friend, is the sixty-four dollar question."

"Whatever," Sam said, walking forward slightly. "We just, we need to talk to you. We need your help."

The Trickster raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess. You two _muttonheads_ broke the world, and now you want _me_ to sweep up your mess."

"Please," Sam implored. "Just five minutes. Hear me out."

He shrugged. "Sure. Tell you what, you survive the next twenty-four hours, we'll talk."

"Survive what?" Rose asked.

The Trickster looked at them like they were idiots. "The game!" He exclaimed, like it was obvious.

"What game?" Dean asked.

"You're in it," The Trickster said, smirking.

"How do we play?" Dean said warily.

"You're playing it."

"Are there any rules?" Rose asked.

The trickster raised his eyebrows and disappeared in a burst of static.

Dean swore. Rose felt like doing the same.

 **So... Sorry I missed my update date.**

 **But, on a brighter note, Happy Birthday Sam Winchester! Many happy returns from fangirls across the world.**

 **Also, take a minute today to Comemmorate those who died in the battle of Hogwarts. (*Sobs* Remus! Tonks! Frikin' Fred! Why must you torture us so, JK Rowling? Even 20 years later!)**

 **So... drop a reply, tell me your favourite character. Argue Snape's loyalties (Bastard.) Tell me what you think of my stories. I don't bite.**


	15. Chapter 15

They followed another doctor down the corridor, and Sam almost ran into doctor Piccolo's fist.

"What the hell, lady?" He asked, and the woman glared.

"You are a brilliant, brilliant-"

"Yeah. A coward. You already said that," Sam said, arms out to prevent her from attempting to hit him. "But I got news for you. I am _not_ a doctor."

Her eyes welled with tears. "Don't say that. You are the finest cerebrovascular neurosurgeon I have ever met, and I have met plenty." Sam sighed, but Doctor Piccolo continued. "So that girl died on your table. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't anybody's fault. Sometimes people just _die_."

Sam looked incredibly confused. "I have no idea what you're saying to me"

Doctor Piccolo looked close to bursting into tears. "You're afraid. You're afraid to operate again. And you're afraid to love." She ran away, sobbing.

Sam looked terrified. "Yeah, we're getting out of here."

"Hey, doctor," A voice said, and they turned to see a man looking at Dean.

"Yeah?" Dean said, looking warily at the man.

"My wife needs that face transplant," He said, his desperation clear in his voice.

Dean sighed and rolled his eyes. "Okay. You know what, pal? None of this is real, and your wife doesn't need _jack_ _squat_. Okay?" They turned and walked away, ignoring the man.

"Hey, Doctor." The man said again, and they heard a gunshot, before Dean collapsed to his knees, a bullet in his back. "Real – it's real-" He croaked, and collapsed.

Sam's eyes widened, and he and Rose caught his arms before he collapsed to the ground. She healed him slightly, not enough that anyone would notice, not even the Trickster.

"No, no, no – Hey! We need a Doctor!" No-one moved, and Sam and Rose looked around frantically.

…

Sam stood over Dean, scrubs clean, and his face-mask covering his mouth and nose. Rose stood to the side, blending in with the crowd of extras. A nurse handed him tweezers, and he dabbed at Dean's wound. He pressed a bloodstained cloth to his back.

"BP is fifty over eighty and dropping," A nurse said, glancing at Rose.

A nurse held a scalpel out to him. He stared at it like it would bite him, and looked nervously at Rose. "What?" he said to the nurse holding it. She exchanged a look with another doctor, and Dean's voice echoed from under the headrest. "Sam, do something. C'mon."

Sam leaned over, and muttered, "I don't know how to use any for this crap."

"Figure it out!"

Sam sighed, grinning awkwardly at the other nurses, and stared imploringly at Rose. She nodded encouragingly.

"Sam, c'mon," Dean growled, his voice laced with pain. "I'm waiting."

Sam took a deep breath, his eyes wide with panic. "Okay. Um. I need a penknife, some dental floss, a sewing needle, and a fifth of whiskey."

Rose sighed in relief. The Nurses looked confused for a moment, before Sam barked out a sharp, "Stat!" And they rushed to get what he needed.

…

Sam snipped the last of Dean's stitches, his gloved hands bloody. "We okay?" Dean asked. "How's it looking?"

Sam sighed in relief. "Yep, you'll be fine."

Rose glanced up to see Sam smiling nervously at doctor Piccolo, who mouthed 'I love you,' before sighing. The lights flashed, and the world shifted, and then they were somewhere else.

…

It looked like a game show, with bright lights and large Japanese characters on the door. Sam and Dean were standing on podiums, their feet strapped in shoes glued to the floor. She was dressed in a skimpy red costume, standing frozen in the corner of the room. The door slid open, dry ice leaking into the room before a Japanese man wearing a metallic suit ran in.

"Let's play…nutcracker!" He exclaimed, a wide smile stretching across his face. There was clapping from the crowd, silence falling when he yelled something in Japanese, and whipped cards from his pocket. "Sam Winchester," He said dramatically, and Sam looked from Dean to Rose nervously. The host glanced down at his cards, before looking back up at Sam. He spoke slowly in Japanese, making sure that Sam could hear, before saying in English, "Countdown." The timer on the screen activated, the numbers flickering away.

Except Sam couldn't understand Japanese. The TARDIS translation filter kicked in for Rose, who heard, "What was the name of the demon that you chose over your own brother?"

"Sam!" She cried, her mouth unfreezing for a second. "The question was; what was the name of the demon-" Her voice cut off, and she reached up to feel a gag around her mouth. _Dammit_.

"It is Sam Winchester's question, not yours," The host said warningly. "No cheating."

Sam looked frantically at Dean. "What am I supposed to say?"

Dean looked equally terrified. "You think I know?"

Sam turned to the host. "Uh, I don't – I don't speak Japanese," He said slowly.

The man raised an eyebrow, before repeating the question, still in Japanese. Sam looked more terrified, and turned to Dean again. "Is he screwing with me? I, I can't speak Japanese."

The seconds ticked down to zero, and the crowd groaned in sympathy. The host winced, before straightening. "The answer is…" He said, still talking in Japanese. "Ruby!" He yelled the last part in English. "I am sorry, Sam Winchester," He said, bowing slightly.

"Sorry?" Sam asked, almost like he was afraid of the answer. "For what?"

A ball came up and hit him in the crotch. He doubled over, pain written over his face. Dean flinched, his eyes wide in horror. Sam grabbed onto the podium beside him, still doubled over.

The host cackled, before exclaiming "Nutcracker!" The crowd cheered.

Suddenly Rose's gag was gone, and her mouth was moving not of her own accord. An ad, she thought, as her mouth forcedly stretched into a smile. Her eyes flickered to Sam and Dean, where Dean asked, "You okay?"

Sam just glared.

The stopped talking suddenly, released from whatever spell held her there. She ran over to Sam and Dean, and the door behind them slid open to reveal Castiel. "Oh, thank god," She said.

"Cas?" Dean asked.

"Is this another trick?" Sam said warily.

"It's me," He confirmed. "Uh, what are you doing here?"

"Us?" Dean asked. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"Looking for you, you've been missing for days," He replied.

"Well, get us out of here!" Sam exclaimed.

Cas walked forward, bringing his hands up to their forehead, before he disappeared in a burst of static. Rose's eyes widened.

No trickster would have that much power, enough to banish an angel.

But if he wasn't a Trickster, what was he?

…

After going through the game show, they were stuck in an ad. The boys got it easy. They were stuck playing basketball. She was stuck forcibly doing yoga poses.

If that wasn't bad enough, she got herpes on top of it.

She was almost glad when they were thrown into the sitcom.

…

It was extremely typical. The jokes were bad, but the laugh tracks still played. Rose was tired of smiling, and she could tell Dean was too.

"How long do we have to keep doing this?" Dean muttered out of the corner of his mouth, still smiling widely.

Sam shrugged, plastering a smile on his face. "I don't know." Applause. "Maybe forever?"

Cue laugh track. Rose glared briefly at the direction of the laugh track. "I don't want to be here that long," She said, grinning brightly. _She might just smash the laugh track._

"We might die here," Sam realised.

Again with the bloody laugh track.

Dean glared in the direction of the laugh track. "How is that funny? Vultures."

Laugh track.

Suddenly, the door opened, and Castiel stumbled in, a cut across his nose. Rose almost sighed in relief. "I don't have much time," He said frantically.

"What happened?" Sam asked.

Castiel sighed. "I got out," He said, exasperated.

"From where?" Dean asked.

Castiel sighed, but didn't answer. "Listen to me. This thing is much more powerful than it should be."

"The Trickster, Right?" Rose said. "I noticed that too."

"If it even is a Trickster," Castiel said ominously.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked.

Before Castiel could answer, he was thrown backwards against a wall, and the door flung open to reveal the Trickster.

But she was expecting it, and slammed the Trickster against the wall, spreading her wings in warning. A flicker of recognition crossed his face before she was flung into the wall next to Castiel.

She sat up, dazed, and glanced at Castiel. He had tape over his mouth, and there was a look of recognition as he looked at the Trickster.

She turned to look at the trickster, and froze, her mouth falling open.

 _Gabriel_.

…

"Hi, Castiel," Gabriel said happily, and Castiel just glared. "Ra-" She glared, and pushed a bit of grace out in a frantic warning. _Please don't tell them._ Gabriel recovered well though, and said, "Random person whose name I've forgotten." He waved at them, and the world disappeared in a burst of static.

They landed in an empty sewer. She stumbled into Castiel, and he caught her.

"Thanks," She said, and he ripped the tape off his mouth. "Gabriel, huh?"

He smiled happily. "He's alive. Rahmiel, he's _alive_."

She giggled, wrapping her arms around Castiel's neck. "I thought he'd died. We _all_ thought he'd died."

"He's _alive_." He whispered again.

Gabriel had disappeared, around the time when Lucifer had been locked into the cage. They'd found his wings, burnt into the ground, and they had thought he had died, and animals had taken his vessel.

He was _alive_.

…

They didn't have enough time to celebrate. A low growl had come from the shadows, echoing around the cabin.

Castiel turned to Rose. "This was how it started last time," he said softly. "We need to run."

"I'm used to that," she said, before turning and running away.

A howl echoed behind them. Castiel ran beside her. "Did you see what they were, last time?" She asked.

"Wolves," Castiel replied. "We need to keep moving."

They ran, though the maze of tunnels, their steps echoing behind them. She'd tried flying, but Gabriel had put up a ward or something that blocked their power. The wolves howls were getting closer, and the tunnels were just getting longer.

"Since when were wolves underground?" Rose grumbled.

"Since Gabriel put them there," Castiel said.

Suddenly, he stopped. Rose almost ran into him, but pulled herself to a stop just in time.

And saw the dead end they faced.

"Oh, no," She whispered. They turned slowly, facing the wolves.

It was a pack of silver-grey wolves, their fur gleaming in the dim light. One stepped forward, its haunches raised. She presumed it was the Alpha.

And then she remembered the vortex manipulator around her wrist. _You may have blocked our grace, Gabriel, but I have technology, and time on my side._

"Castiel," She whispered, eyes flicking to where he stood frozen. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course," He hissed back. "What are you planning on doing?"

She didn't reply, instead calling on the Bad Wolf, and scanning the sewer for an area that was safe. Then, softly, carefully, as to not startle the wolves, she programmed the coordinates, grabbed Castiel's wrist, and disappeared.

…

Castiel stared at her, half awe, half sadness.

"You've grown," He said. "You've changed. Oh, Rahmiel, my sister, what happened to you?"

She smiled sadly. "Too much, Castiel," She whispered. "Too much."

She sat down, the dampness of the tunnel soaking her jeans. "It all started when I met a man…"

She told him everything. It all came flowing out, the Bad Wolf, the Doctor, everything.

And Castiel held her as she cried, as she told him what had happened to her, what she had seen, what she had done.

…

It wasn't Gabriel that came and got them, but a body double, who had whispered a short "I'm sorry." Before snapping them back to the warehouse.

The first thing they heard was Dean's voice, frantically asking, "Cas, you okay?"

"I'm fine." Castiel glared at the real Gabriel, who was surrounded in holy fire. "Hello, Gabriel," He said, his voice low and accusing.

"Hey bro," Gabriel said, his grin too bright. "How's the search for daddy going? Let me guess, terrible." He shrugged, before his face fell into an expression of such sadness the Rose knew he'd tried, knew he'd looked everywhere.

"Okay," Dean said, turning. "We're out of here. Sam, c'mon." They turned, and walked towards the door.

Gabriel looked afraid for a moment, and asked, "Uh, okay, Guys?"

Castiel gave Gabriel one last scathing glare, then turned and followed the Winchesters.

"Uh, so, what? You're just gonna, you're gonna leave me here, forever?"

Dean stopped by the door, and looked back. "No. We're not, 'cause we don't _screw_ _with_ _people_ the way you do." He paused, then added, "And for the record? This isn't about some prize fight between your brothers or some destiny that can't be stopped. This is about you being too _afraid_ to stand up to your family." He smashed his elbow into the glass, and pulled down the fire alarm. "Don't say I never did anything for you."

He turned and left. Sam followed behind, then Castiel, and Rose paused, staring at Gabriel for a second before following after the Winchesters.

 **So... here. I am unsure if the last update worked, but I think it did.**


	16. Chapter 16

The Impala raced around the corner, tyres screeching, before it came to a halt in a gravel car park. Sam, Dean and Rose jumped out, Dean pausing to look in confusion at the many other impalas lining the gravel driveway. Sam tugged on his sleeve, and they ran up to the steps.

Chuck was pacing at the bottom of the steps, and Rose almost sighed in relief.

"Chuck!" Sam called, running up to him. "There you are."

Chuck looked surprised to see them. "Guys?"

"What's going on?" Dean asked.

"Ah, nothing," Chuck said, his voice squeaking slightly. "Y'know, I'm just kinda hanging. What are you guys doing here?"

Rose frowned. "You asked us to come," She said.

"Ah, no, I didn't," Chuck said, confused. "And, uh, you're Rose, right?"

She nodded. "Hi."

Sam frowned. "You texted me. This address, life or death situation. Any of this ringing a bell?"

Chuck looked extremely worried. "Ah, no. I didn't send you a text."

Dean groaned. "We drove _all night_!"

"I'm sorry," He said apologetic. "I don't understand what could of…" He trailed off, realising something. "Oh, no," He groaned, and suddenly a call came from the top of the hotel stairs.

"Sam! You mad it!" A girl came running around, her hair dyed blonde and her brown eyes glinting with manic excitement.

Sam looked slightly terrified. "Oh, uh, Becky, right?"

She grinned, and ran down the stairs. "You remembered me!" Her voice lowered an octave, and she said, "You've been thinking about me."

Sam's eye flickered between Chuck, Dean and Rose. "I…"

The girl smiled. "It's okay, I couldn't get you out of my mind either!"

Chuck sighed. "Becky," He said, addressing the girl. "Did you take my phone?"

"I only borrowed it from your pants," Becky said, her gaze flicking back to Sam.

"Becky…" Chuck sighed.

"What?" She defended. "They're gonna want to see this."

"See what?" The three of them chorused.

Becky grinned. "I _love_ it when they speak at the same time!" Her gaze flickered to Rose, and a jealous gleam danced in her eye. "Who are you?"

She smiled. "Rose Tyler," She said. "And don't worry, Sam's all yours."

Sam glared at her, an underlying glance of _please help me_ in his gaze.

Chuck winced. "I'm sorry, guys," He said as Becky bounded away. "For everything."

He turned and walked up the stairs, and, after a cautious glance between the boys, Rose followed.

…

They walked inside, cautiously glancing around. A man walked past, wearing a leather jacket and carrying a glass of beer. "Hey, _Dean_ ," he said, grinning and pointing at Dean. "Looking good."

"Who are you?" Dean growled.

The man looked slightly confused. "Uh, I'm Dean too, duh," He spun, showing off his clothes which were eerily similar to the ones Dean was wearing, down to the bronze amulet on his neck.

Dean's eyes flickered to Sam, then to Rose, an expression of utter confusion on his face. Sam shrugged, equally confused.

A man dressed as a Scarecrow walked past, a can of Soda in one hand and a plastic scythe in the other. He stopped by them to say, "Uh oh, it's Sam and Dean. I'm in trouble now." He raised his soda can. "Well, you two have fun now. Ahhh!" He jiggled the scythe in Sam's face, before walking off. Sam glared at him, and Becky giggled behind them.

"What?" Dean asked, and Rose shrugged.

"I have no idea." She looked around, at the people with black contacts, and the people dressed as people she presumed the Winchesters knew. She recognised Bobby, but everyone else she didn't know. There were people as ghosts and vampires and a lot of other monsters she would probably recognise if she had faced them. Angels tended not to face lesser ghosts and stuff like that. Her kind were stuck-up bastards like that.

"Becky," Sam asked cautiously. "What is this?"

"It's… awesome!" She crowed. "A Supernatural convention, the first ever!"

Sam looked at Dean and Rose, an expression of both annoyance and confusion on his face.

…

She got asked no less than three times who she was meant to be. Every time, she glared and flashed her eyes gold, and the person scurried away. They eventually packed themselves into an auditorium, and a man at the front tapped the microphone.

"Welcome," He said, his voice unenthusiastic. "To the first annual Supernatural convention. At 3.45 in the Magnolia room we have the panel, 'Frightened little boy, the secret life of Dean'. And at 4.30 there's the 'Homoerotic subtext of Supernatural.'"

Dean's eyes widened from where they stood at the back of the hall, and next to them, Becky quivered in excitement.

"Oh, and of course the big hunt starts at 7pm sharp," The manager added, and cheers broke out amongst the audience. "But right now," He said, his voice lowering, and silence fell in the hall. "Right now I'd like to introduce the man himself. The creator, the writer of the supernatural books. The one, the only, Carver Edlund!"

Chuck ran onto the stage, and the audience went wild. He smiled nervously and waved, and waited for the crowd to settle. The microphone squealed as he spoke into it, and his voice rose in pitch. "Ok. Ok good, this isn't nearly as awkward as I..." He trailed off, before clearing his throat. "Dry mouth," He said, before picking up a water bottle and chugging it. The crowd sat in an awkward silence as he drank. He finished the bottle, dropping the crumpled plastic onto the ground. "Okay… uh, questions?"

Every hand in the room flew up. Chuck's eyes widened, but he started answering questions anyway.

Rose zoned out, right until Chuck announced new books, and then the crowd went wild.

…

Dean and Sam growled warnings of no new books to Chuck, until Rose stepped in and said, "Whoa, whoa, he still needs to make money," She said. "What would you have done if you were him? Pray to the archangel to give him insurance and money to pay taxes?"

"It's our lives," Dean argued. "No-one has the right to just tell the world our lives," He said.

A scream echoed from somewhere, and Sam Dean and Rose took off, Chuck's cry of "Guys! Wait!" Echoing into the background.

A girl, wearing a frilly high-necked dress lay on the floor. Sam reached out his hand and helped her up. "Are you okay?" He asked.

She nodded. "I think so."

"What happened?" Dean asked.

"I… I saw a ghost," She said.

Rose could see people gathering around them, audience members she presumed were drawn by the scream.

"A ghost? Can you tell us what it looked like?" A man said, his leather jacket gleaming. He stood next to a shorter guy dressed in similar clothes.

"Why don't you leave this to the grownups, pal," Dan said before turning back to the girl.

"A woman. She was in an old fashioned dress. Really old. Like a school marm, or something?" She said.

Another man stepped forward. "Did she say anything to you?"

Dean looked ready to punch something in frustration, before the woman started grinning. "Okay," She said, and raised her voice so everyone could hear. "Gather close everybody, for a terrifying tale of terror. I saw… a ghost!"

Sam shook his head and turned away, and Dean swore under his breath. "Terrifying tale of terror? Really?" Rose whispered to hem both. Sam chuckled dryly.

The woman's voice echoed through the halls, fading slightly. "None other than the ghost of Leticia gore herself! I was on the third floor getting ice for a guest..."

Becky ran up to them, grinning slightly. "Ooh, the LARPing's started!"

"The what?" Rose asked.

Becky glared at her. She got the feeling she didn't like her very much. "Live Action Role Playing? It's a game. The convention puts it on." She handed Sam a piece of paper.

He looked at it and frowned. "Dad's Journal. Dear Sam and Dean, this hotel is haunted. You must hunt down the ghost. Interview witnesses, discover clues, and find the bones. First team to do so wins a $50 gift card to Sizzler. Love Dad"

Becky grinned. "You guys are _so_ gonna win."

…

They watched from a distance as the manager held the attention of the crowd, who were all dressed in identical suits with identical false I.D's. "100 years ago this very night, Miss Gore went insane, and butchered four little boys before killing herself," He said, as the audience listened, rapt.

Dean turned away. "Well, that's about all the community theatre I can take."

"Yes," Sam agreed. "This _can't_ get any weirder."

"I pity you, I really do," Rose said. "I'm glad there isn't a book written about the _Doctor_ out there."

"Just you wait," Dean said. "There's new books coming out, you'll be in them."

"Don't remind me," She said.

Two men walked past.

"Dad said I may have to kill you," One of them growled.

"Kill me?" The other said, not changing his tone. "What does that mean?"

"I don't know," The first one replied.

"Oh." They walked away, reciting lines back and forth.

Dean turned to Sam and Rose, a disgusted look on his face. "I need a drink," The brothers said in unison.

…

They sat at the bar, Sam nursing a beer, Rose with a glass of water, and Dean downing a shot glass. The actor who was dressed as a maid (That should have been their first clue, who had _maids_ anymore?) tapped at her phone, the small blue screen illuminating her face.

Dean slid across to her, and smiled. "How you doing?"

She didn't even blink. "Busy."

She left Dean to flirt and turned to Sam. "We gonna leave, or what?"

"I dunno," He said. "I just- I got a feeling that something's gonna go wrong, are you getting that?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Hey, do you think-" She was cut off as something curled across her grace, and a voice echoed from the other side of the room.

"For the last time, I'm not making this up, okay?" Dean looked up too, and Sam swivelled to look at the person, a man talking exasperatedly to his friend. "She's upstairs, a real live dead _ghost_."

They stood up, and walked over to the man. His friend looked annoyed, and said, "Look, I'm sure it was one of the ghost actors."

"Who beat the hell out of me and vanished?"

"You saw something?" Sam asked.

The man turned to Sam. "This isn't part of the game, jerk." He turned back to his friend. "Look, I'm getting out of here, and you should do the same." He turned and walked away, leaving his friend to call after him.

"What do you think?" Sam asked.

"He looked really scared," Rose said. "I don't think he's a good enough lerper or whatever the hell it is to fake that."

Dean nodded, then swore. "We're gonna have to stay in fandom land to sort it out, aren't we?"

"Yep," Rose said, grinning. "At least it's not hell, it could be worse."

" _Nothing_ could be worse than this." Dean groaned. "We can't even shoot anyone here! We could _stop_ it in Hell but not here!"

Rose smiled.

 **Sorry for not posting last week, exams are coming up and I have no freedom.**

 **Also to all those waiting for the Winchesters to find out... in time, my friends, in time.**

 **Comment! Favourite!**


	17. Chapter 17

The actor was still reciting lines when they passed him. "Why yes, agents Jagger and Richards. As manager of this fine establishment, I can tell you it is indeed haunted."

They stopped at the front desk, where the man there looked incredibly bored.

"Excuse us," Dean said. "D'you mind if we ask you a few questions?"

The man sighed. "Look, I don't have time for this _star_ _wars_ crap. Go ask the guy in the ascot."

Dean pulled fifty dollars from his pocket and slid it over the desk. "Actually, ah, we _really_ want to talk to you."

The manager looked taken aback. "Wow, you guys are _really_ into this."

Rose grinned. "Yep."

"What do you want to know?" He asked.

"All the stuff they're saying," Sam said. "This place being haunted, Leticia Gore, any truth to it?"

The man leaned over the counter. "We generally don't like to publicise this to...normal people...but yeah. 1909 this place was called 'Gore Orphanage'." Dean's eyebrows raised. "Miss Gore, killed four boys with a butcher's knife, then offed herself."

"And the anniversary of her death is really tonight?" Rose asked.

"Yep," The man said. "Guess your convention folks want authenticity."

"There been any sightings?" Sam asked.

The manager shrugged. "Yep, over the years. A few maids have quit saying they heard the boys or saw them. A janitor even saw Miss Gore once."

"Where did Miss Gore carve up the kids?" Dean asked, and the manager shook his head.

"Look, I don't want you stomping all over the joint. A lot of this place is off limits to nerds-"

Dean slid another Fifty dollar note over the tabletop.

The manager leaned in, and whispered "The attic."

Rose smiled her thanks, and they walked away.

…

They all squeezed through to the attic, the EMF buzzing in their ears. "EMF's going nuts," Sam whispered.

"Great," Dean groaned. "We got a real ghost, and we got a bunch of dudes pretending to be us poking at it."

"That is not going to end well," Rose murmured.

"Yeah, well, serves them right," Dean muttered, and Sam glared at him.

"Dean…"

"What?" He defended. "I'm just saying."

They worked on combing the attic in silence.

…

"My mummy loves me." A child's voice came from a corner, startling Rose. She turned, to see a small, semi-transparent boy looking up at her, holding a hand to his head. "I said, my mummy loves me!"

"I'm sure she does," Sam said cautiously.

"My mummy loves me this much!" He pulled his hands away from his head, revealing his bloody head, from where he had been… _scalped_ , by the look of it. He glared up at them, before disappearing.

…

Sam walked over, and dripped his phone on the table. "All right, that was the guy with the country historical society."

Dean looked up from his drink. "And?"

"Not only did Leticia Gore butcher four boys, but one of them was her own _son_ ," Sam said, disgust in his voice.

"Her own _son_?" Rose said. "Really?"

"Yep. According to the police at the time, she scalped them."

"Oh, that's it," Dean said, disgust clear in his voice. "I'm gonna deep-fry this bitch extra crispy. Dude say where she was buried?"

Sam shook his head. "He doesn't know."

A voice from another table drew their attention. "Check it out," A man said, holding an oldish looking map in his hands. "There's the orphanage, here's the carriage house, and right there... cemetery."

Rose got up and walked over, Sam and Dean following behind.

"You think that's where Leticia's planted?" The other man asked, tugging a corner of the map over to look at it.

"It's worth a shot," The first man replied.

Sam reached out to take the map, and he pulled it way. "Hey!"

"Do you mind?" The second man said sharply.

"It's real," He said to Rose and Dean. "A century old, at least, and he's right, there is a cemetery on the grounds."

"Where'd you get that?" Dean asked the man.

"It's called a _game_ , pal." He said. "It ain't called charity."

Dean sighed. "Yeah, right, just gimme the map, chuckles."

The man glared at Dean. "Yeah, well you're the chuckles… chuckles." He folded his arms. "Besides, Dean don't listen to nobody." He pulled back his jacket to reveal a plastic gun.

The other man put his hand on his shoulder. "Dean! Cool it."

Dean pulled out his own gun, but Sam put a hand on his shoulder. "Dean," He warned.

"What?" Dean said, but put his gun away anyway. "They're frigging annoying."

"Hey, I have an Idea," Rose said. "We all wanna find the bones, right?"

The men nodded.

"Why don't we work together?" She suggested.

The men exchanged glances.

"Fine. But ah… we get the sizzler gift card."

"Whatever," She said, and reached out to take the map.

"And," He said, grinning. "We get to be Sam and Dean."

Rose glanced at the Winchesters. Dean sighed. "Fine."

The shorter man smiled. "Yes," He whispered.

 **Exams are over, finally. So, freedom to write!**

 **Hope you enjoy. Please comment what you think.**


	18. Chapter 18

They walked out the front of the hall, the two fans walking up ahead. One of them turned back. "Hey, Bobby, Rufus, Jo, hurry it up, would you?"

Dean pursed his lips.

"Are you alright?" Sam asked.

'I'm trying to be," He said grumpily.

The men at the front (Rose thought they were called Damien and Ben, or something like that) started reciting lines, and Dean looked like he was going to punch something. "Alright, that's it. That is _it_."

She though it was Damian that turned around. "What's wrong, Bobby?"

Dean looked ready to murder someone. "I'm not Bobby, ok? You're not Sam. You're not Dean. What is wrong with you? Why in the _hell_ would you choose to be these guys?"

Banks – or whatever his name was – turned, confused. "Uh, because we're fans, like you?"

"No. I am not a fan, ok. Not fans." The two men looked confused, but Dean continued. "In fact, I think that the Dean and Sam story sucks. It is not fun. It is not entertaining. It is a river of crap that would send most people howling to the nut house. So you listen to me. Their pain is not for your amusement. I mean do you think they enjoy being treated like... like circus freaks?"

"Uh, I don't think they'll care, because they're _fictional characters._ "

"Oh, they care," He said, storming ahead. "Believe me, they care a lot."

Damian stared after them, before turning to Sam and Rose, confusion in their gazes.

"Uh, he's really passionate about them," Rose said, smiling slightly before going after Dean.

…

They got to the graveyard, and started shining their flashlights on the graves.

"I found the four boys," Dean said, shining his flashlight on the grave.

"I found Leticia Gore," Rose said. She turned to Damian and Barnes, who were shining their flashlights into the bushes.

"Uh, what are you doing?" Dean asked.

"Looking for bones, genius," Damian said, before turning back to the bushes. "They gotta be around here somewhere."

"Well," Dean said, dumping his duffel bag on the ground. "Generally, bones are in the ground."

Sam dropped his bag, and Rose followed suit, and they rummaged around inside.

"I get that, I just…"

They pulled shovels out of the bag and his eyes widened.

"Wait hold on, are you guys serious?" He said, his voice rising an octave.

"Deadly," Dean said.

"We're not actually digging up graves, guys," Barnes said nervously. "We're just playing a game."

"Trust us," Dean said. "D'you wanna win the game or not?"

Barnes bit his lip, but didn't say anything more.

…

Dean finished digging the grave, and broke open the coffin, revealing a skeleton. The two men's eyes widened. "That's not a plastic skeleton," Damian said. "That's a… _skeleton_ skeleton."

"Yep," Rose said.

"You just dug up a real grave," Barnes said.

"Yeah," Dean said, from where he sat in the grave.

"You guys are nuts." A note of hysteria was in Damian's voice.

Sam grinned slightly. "I thought you guys wanted to be hunters."

"Hunters aren't real, man!" Damian cried, his eyes wide. "This isn't real!" They turned and started to walk away.

"My god, you guys have seriously lost your grip on this," Barnes said, turning back to look at them before freezing, looking at something over Sam's shoulder.

Sam frowned. "What?" He turned to where they were looking, and was met with a semi-transparent woman in blue clothing.

"Naughty, Naughty!" She exclaimed, and backhanded Sam away. They screamed, and turned to run. Rose sighed and helped to pull Dean from the grave. One of the tripped, falling to the ground with a thud.

"Barnes!" The other one called, turning back to his friend. He pulled him up, and they turned to run.

They didn't get very far, before the ghost appeared in front of them, scowling and screeching, "Naughty, naughty!"

They screamed, clutching each other. The ghost plunged a spectral hand in each of their chests, drawing a long scream from each of them.

Dean turned to look, where he was pouring salt on the bones. He swore, pulling out kerosene and splashing it over the bones, before dropping his lighter on top. The ghost burst into flames, screaming all the while.

The two men stood stock-still, shaken. "Real enough for you?" Dean asked, sighing in both relief an annoyance.

They turned to Dean and Rose, horrified.

…

They were just packing up to go, after reassuring the two men that they were okay, when the doors and windows locked.

"Shit," Rose swore, scuffing the floor with the toe of her shoe. "It isn't over, is it?"

Dean went to answer, when they were interrupted with a scream. They turned and ran towards the noise, and the actress from before ran out of a room, a terrified look on her face.

"Whoa, you alright?" Dean asked, as she fell into his arms.

"Don't go in there," She said, her eyes wide.

"Go downstairs," Dean said, righting her so she was on her feet. "Go!"

The three of them walked into the library, and immediately saw the young boy ghost, his head glistening where he had been scalped.

"Why'd you do that?" He asked in a hurt tone. "Why'd you send my Mommy away?"

"Your mummy hurt you," Rose said, crouching down in front of the ghost. "We sent her away so she wouldn't hurt anyone else."

The boy looked confused. "My Mommy didn't do this to me," He said, pressing his hands to his head wound.

Rose frowned. "What?"

"Then who did?" Sam asked, as confused as Rose.

The boy didn't answer, and instead disappeared.

…

Sam went to warn Chuck, and they ushered everyone inside the auditorium, including the very confused managers.

After they closed the doors, spreading salt lines over the exits, Dean turned to her and Sam. "Okay," He said, sighing. "New theory. The legends about Leticia are ass-backwards, obviously."

Sam nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah. So, all right, say the three orphans are playing Cowboys and Indians-"

"LARPing Cowboys and Indians," Dean interrupted.

Sam nodded distractedly. "Whatever. And let's say they scalped Leticia's son and killed him."

Rose caught on. "Leticia sees them do it, goes postal, then attacks the boys."

Sam grinned, but it turned into a grimace. "If that's true it means we've got three bloodthirsty brats in the building."

Dean swore. "And Leticia was the only one keeping them under control."

Sam groaned. "Smooth move on our part."

"Yeah, well, we gotta get back to the cemetery, torch the kid's bones." Dean said. Rose could almost see the wheels turning in his head.

"How?" Sam asked, defeated. "We're trapped, and we don't even have our guns! The ghosts are running this joint, and they're only scared of one thing."

Dean's eyes lit up, as an idea formed. "Exactly."

…

They set the actress who had been posing as Leticia before up to distract the children whilst they forced the door open, and when Dean led her away, the two men from before came up, Demanding to help. Sam reluctantly agreed, and the four of them were now forcing the door. Rose could feel it slowly giving, the Ghosts releasing their power.

A crack wide enough to let people out opened, and Damian and Barnes slipped through. As soon as they got through, the door slammed shut, locking them in again.

"I'll go," She said, waving the arm with her Vortex Manipulator on it, already inputting coordinates in. "You go help Dean." She punched the button, and disappeared.

She re-appeared in front of Damian and Barnes, and they screamed. "What are you? Demon? Are they real too?" Barnes said, glaring at her.

"No," She said, rolling her eyes and picking up a shovel from her discarded duffel. "I mean, Demons are real, but I'm not one."

"But you- you just appeared out of thin _air!_ " Damian said.

She held up the arm with her vortex manipulator on it. "Vortex Manipulator," She said. "My teleport. I'm here to _help,_ not do all the work." She threw a shovel at them. "Start digging!"

…

It took about twenty minutes for her to finish her grave, and she moved on to Leticia's son. She reckoned he would disappear when the boys did, but she couldn't take chances. Eventually there was a pile of bones in one grave, and after pouring salt and Kerosene on top, she waited for the man to light his lighter, before he dropped that on, and everything went up in flames.

…

They left with more information than when they came, and the name of the Demon who has the colt. Rose smiled at Dean when he said so, before sighing.

"Hey," Dean said, still grinning. "You want to go, go. We ain't stopping you."

She huffed out a quiet _thankyou,_ before inputting the coordinates into her vortex manipulator, and disappearing.

She landed in Stormcage. It was about a day after she had left last time, and she was outside the same cell. She flew inside, as there was no need to hide the fact that she was an angel here.

River looked up, her sandy blonde hair floating around her face. "Hello," She said. "I'm sorry for scaring you off before."

"I'm sorry for running," Rose replied, before sitting on the other end of the bed. "I… I didn't realise you… I'm sorry," She decided on.

"Why?" River said. "When I die, I want to know he's happy, and moved on, but I'd still be shocked when I saw it."

Rose buried her head in her hands. "I feel like such a witch. I'm sorry."

River giggled. "Don't worry. I feel like such a witch sometimes too. I'm pretty sure everyone does, at least some point in their lives."

Rose smiled faintly. "Right, let's start this again." She sighed, then smiled broadly, brilliantly. "Hi, my name is…" She paused. "Well, my _real_ name is… not mine to claim, yet, but call me Rose. Rose Tyler."

River smiled as well. "Nice to meet you, Rose. I'm River Song."

Rose shook her hand.

…

About an hour later, after giggling about complete nonsense and time travel, Rose's smile fell.

"What's he like?" She asked, her voice small and scared. "The Doctor. _Your_ Doctor."

River smiled sadly. "Which Doctor were you with?"

"Ten," She said, her voice wobbling. "And Nine."

River grinned. "Lucky you," She said. "Two doctors." Her smile grew sad, again. " _My_ Doctor, He's the eleventh. All floppy-haired and childlike, almost. He's… sad, really sad, but only when he thinks no-one is looking." Rose closed her eyes. _Oh, Doctor_. "He lost friends, this Doctor, but he doesn't know that yet. He has an obsession with _fezzes_ , of all things. And he loves Fish Fingers and Custard."

Rose wrinkled her nose. "Fish Fingers and _Custard?_ Really?"

River nodded, smiling. "He wears a ridiculous bow-tie, but it suits him." She looked at Rose, raising an eyebrow. "What's your Doctor like?"

"Ninth or Tenth?" Rose asked, smiling softly.

"Ninth," River decided. "I'll meet tenth, eventually, and I want it to be a surprise."

Rose smiled, until she remembered where she met the tenth Doctor. "Well," She said, considering. "The Ninth doctor is a _terrible_ driver. He once took me back a _year_ late, rather than a week." She grinned. "My mum slapped him, when she first saw him."

River giggled. "Oh, my god, really?"

That was how they spent the night, talking, about Doctors and adventures, about Charles Dickens with ghosts, and robots with Nazis, about memories, good and bad.

They parted ways as friends.

 **You all know what's coming next.**


End file.
